Forbidden
by Elen Liste Alda
Summary: 5,000 years ago, Atem became the pharaoh and defeated the ultimate evil. What did he go through, and how was his twin sister involved? This is the REAL story about Atem’s past and what made him the man he was...with a little help from his sister. AU
1. Prologue

**Forbidden **

**By: Élen Lístë Aldá **

**Prologue**

Two children sat alone in the hall outside the door of their father's chamber, both knowing that something bad was going to happen. The storm that raged outside was an ill omen and did not bode well for their father's fate.

The two children, though no more than ten, were strong and brave for their age, but they both valiantly tried to quell the fear that fluttered in their young breasts.

They were a boy and girl, twins.

The boy wore a pure white sarong with gold thread sewn around the hem; he wore no shirt, and his leather sandals were sewn together with gold thread and studded with precious jewels. His hair was as dark as a starless night with red highlights and streaked with gold. Around his thin left upper arm was an unadorned band of gold; while bands encircled his wrists, adding to his royal bearing. Upon his brow was a crown of gold and rubies, a testament to his status as the son of the Pharaoh. He looked at his sister—his violet eyes normally smiling downcast.

The girl wore a thin gown of the same shade of white as her brother. The dress was sleeveless and came off on one shoulder. A gold brooch, bearing an insignia of the two gods Ra and Osiris, held the garment together at the shoulder. On her right upper arm was a band matching her brother's. She, too, wore bands around her wrists. She wore sandals similar to her brother's, but hers twined around her thin calf while his tied off at the ankle. Her hair was loose, and she wore a thin gold circlet that was half hidden in her ebony and reddish-gold streaked tresses. Her own flashing violet eyes where downcast as she fiddled with the brooch.

The boy noticed his sister's silence and put a comforting arm around her thin shoulders.

At his gentleness, her composure almost cracked. She straightened her shoulders and grimly held her chin up, drawing on her brother's silent strength.

The boy understood her determination to not show her emotions, a sign of weakness, even though they were alone.

After all, the children of the Pharaoh were expected remain strong at all times and not shame themselves, as well as their father, by showing their grief and fear, two signs of being weak; they were not weak.

The sound of faint foot steps echoing down the hall caused both to stiffen.

As the soft footsteps drew closer, the boy astounded, '_Not another priest! Surely Father will recover shortly!_'

A cloaked figure turned the corner and the flickering torch light revealed it to be a young boy. He drew back his hood, revealing himself to be Seto, a young apprentice to their uncle, High Priest Akunadin. Seto was twelve and a playmate of the boy and girl.

He had shoulder-length light brown hair that shone like polished amber in the faint light the torches provided. He had kind royal blue eyes. He wore a robe made of finely spun cotton, trimmed at the neckline and hem with golden cloth. He wore leather sandals similar to the prince's, but not of such fine quality. It was the Pharaoh who clothed him, taking pity on the lost boy. When around others, he would become silent and fade into the background, despite his boyish handsomeness. However, when with his friends, the prince and princess, he'd be an all together different person.

He approached the siblings and kneeled down to their level for one did not look down upon the Pharaoh or his children, whether friends or not. "You need rest, my friends. You have sat here alone in this cold hallway for hours. Come," he said, offering his hand.

"We will not leave here," came the voice of the girl, who was looking down at her clenched hands.

The boy looked down to gaze at his sister with a gentle smile, "You are weary in both body and heart. You should rest, Nefra."

While still looking down at her hands, Nefra shook her head. She looked up at her brother with determined eyes and said, "No, Atem. I refuse to leave. I will await news of our father at your side."

Atem sighed and looked up at Seto with a light smile that was obviously forced. "It would seem that neither of us is willing to seek out our chambers."

At that, Seto let his hand fall and nodded his understanding. He looked at their tired yet grimly purposeful expressions and came to a decision. "May I sit with you during your vigil?"

The twins looked at one another, seeming to silently communicate. At Atem's nod, Nefra offered a half-heartedly smile and spoke for the both of them, "Yes, you may."

Seto stood, bowed, and after asking permission from Nefra, sat next to her.

Several hours passed, and still there was no word.

Nefra sighed, full of despair for her father, catching the attention of Seto. He reached out his right hand and clasped Nefra's small left hand in his larger one.

She looked up and, at his tender smile, felt tears sting her eyes, causing her to quickly look down

Seto's POV

Seto mentally sighed. It had been hours since he had sat down next to the princess. Nobody could bring themselves to break the silence that sat heavily on them. The princess' sigh was the only noise made after those arduous hours of silence.

He looked down at her hand and held it in his, silently offering her his strength. When she looked up and saw him smile in support. Her jewel-like orbs filled with tears, prompting her to look down to hide her expressive eyes before they betrayed her despair.

It angered him to no end that he couldn't help his only friends. For as long as he could remember, they'd been close friends. He felt useless due to his inability to help them during one of the most important times they would ever experience. He didn't know his own parents, and because of his lack of experience he couldn't assist them in their present situation by offering comforting words.

Normal POV

The sudden opening of the door to the chambers belonging to Pharaoh Akunumkanon startled Seto. Out stepped High Priest Akunadin, the brother of Pharaoh Akunumkanon and Priests Mahado and Shada, two young men who showed great potential in rising in the ranks of the priesthood.

The first to step out was Akunadin. He wore his usual floor-length white robe; the hood was back, revealing his graying brown hair. His clothing was of better quality than the fine robes his young priests wore; his was made of made from a smooth lightweight cloth that came from traders from the East, befitting his status as the brother of the Pharaoh. His sandals were of similar quality to his niece's and nephew's. His Millennium Eye reflected the light of the flickering torches, casting him in a menacing aura.

Mahado preceded Shada. He wore a long, sleeveless white robe that fell to the floor, belted by a fine leather belt. Upon his feet were sandals made of richly crafted leather that tied off at the ankle, much in the fashion the prince's was. He wore no ornamentation other than the single gold bands around his muscled biceps. His rich brown hair was shoulder-length and shone in the torchlight. His expression was somber.

Shada exited the chamber last, closing the door behind him. He was a kind man, but was rather quiet, preferring to observe rather than speak. He, too, wore a robe similar to Mahado's. His robe was belted at the waist by a plain yet sumptuous hand-crafted belt made of the same quality of leather that graced Mahado's waist. His head was shaved and reflected the light the torched emitted.

The three priests saw the threesome, particularly Seto holding Nefra's hand. The children looked up as the holy men approached, bowing to the Pharaoh's children.

High Priest Akunadin looked at his young apprentice and quirked a questioning brow causing Seto to raise his chin in defiance and retain his possession of Nefra's hand, glaring at the man who had always frightened him.

Priests Shada and Mahado looked disturbed. They both knew the children were close, but if the plans for the twins were to be carried out, young Seto could not become involved. The two troubled priests looked at one another, holding a silent communication.

_This does not bode well,_ worried Shada.

_I agree, Shada. Young Seto must not interfere with the twins' destinies. Yet, I feel for him; he only wants to be loved,_ said Mahado with sympathy for lonely lad.

_True that maybe, but still, he must not interfere,_ rationalized Shada.

Shada made eye contact with Seto and looked pointedly at their clasped hands and gave a slight shake of his head, signifying that the boy should not be holding the princess' hand.

Seto understood his meaning and felt a spark of rebelliousness shoot through him before he conceded that the older man was right, prompting him to release Nefra's hand.

At the loss of contact with Seto, Nefra looked up, trying to make eye contact with him, but he stared stonily at the wall on the other side of the hall.

Nefra understood the reason behind Seto's withdrawal and, despite her distress, was angered.

'_It is not fair!' _she fumed_. 'Why can they not leave him alone and let us be friends! They are forever finding some cause to separate us._'

She reached out and held Seto's hand, causing him to look down at her, shock written plainly on his face, as she raised her chin and resolutely looked at the three priests.

Mahado and Shada were not in the least shocked. In fact, they had expected the princess would react exactly as she did.

Akunadin, taking in the event, began thinking. '_Interesting. Yes, very interesting._'

Atem, having witnessed Nefra's action, inwardly smirked, knowing what had prompted her to do so. He looked at Akunadin, his uncle, and asked, "What news? How fares my sire?"

Akunadin fixed his one-eyed gaze upon his nephew. He shook his head, genuinely saddened over his brother's plight. "He will not last the night…"

As the news began to sink in, Nefra launched herself at her uncle and began to hit him, screaming, "You monster! _You_ are to blame for this! He did not know the cost your cursed Millennium Items would extort. You did not tell him; you kept it from him! _You have killed my father!_"

Akunadin did nothing to stop her onslaught upon his person; he only looked sadly down upon her. '_I did not mean for this to happen. It was never my intention to deprive you of your father, little one._'

Mahado knelt down next to the distraught girl and tried to disentangle the girl from her uncle's robes.

"You must cease this, my princess. It will do you no good to abuse your uncle."

Nefra ceased attacking Akunadin and looked at Shada then Mahado with eyes wide with shock as she realized what she had done. She stepped back and looked at her hands, stunned that she had followed through with her thoughts and actually physically hit her uncle. Her actions, along with the deep dislike she felt for her uncle, shook her down to her toes. She balled her small hands into fists at her sides and looked up at her uncle. "Forgive me, Uncle. I have shamed you and myself with my thoughtless words and actions," she said through stiff lips; she disliked apologizing, especially to _him_.

Akunadin grimly looked at his niece and nodded his head in recognition of her half-hearted apology. "He requests your presence in his chambers, my nephew and niece."

Atem reached for Nefra's right hand and, together, they walked into the chambers of their dying father.

Atem looked at Nefra as they walked toward the entrance of their father's sleeping chamber and murmured, "Be strong, Nefra, else his spirit will stay here, sensing your grief, instead of venturing to the after-life to stand at the right hand of Ra."

Nefra resolutely nodded and forced her grief back.

Atem knocked on his father's door, receiving a weak call, bidding them to enter.

Atem looked at Nefra and she looked back at him. They both nodded and faced the door, each drawing a calming breath.

The sight that greeted them as they entered was not one they were prepared for laying in the bed was a complete stranger.

Gone was the man they had known to be their father. Over the span of a full sun's cycle, their father had completely transformed. His cheeks were hollowed out, and his facial features were pinched as though he was experiencing excruciating pain. His body appeared to have shriveled in on itself. The only features that were recognizable were his eyes; the Pharaoh's vibrant violet eyes had faded to a dull indigo and were sunk in.

The sight of their strong father turned incapacitated, along with the pungent smell of the sick and dying, broke their hearts.

Atem's right hand clenched into a fist as he tried to quell his rage. '_Curse my uncle! Nefra was right. Whether knowingly or not, Akunadin has destroyed our father._'

--------

**Yesterday… **

Atem and Nefra were playing a seeking game with Seto, claiming it would help their tracking skills. He and Seto were "tracking" Nefra when they passed by the throne room balcony three feet above them and heard shouting.

The two boys looked at each other and turned to their right to climb one of the trees to see what the commotion was about. It was there that the two boys heard about the events that had befallen the village of Kuruelna .

"It was necessary, my Pharaoh. In order to gain enough power to forage he Millennium items I dreamed of, ninety-nine lives had to be given."

"Sacrificed, you mean," growled a deep voice.

Atem and Seto peeked from the ledge and saw Akunadin standing before Pharaoh Akunumkanon, who sat, mute, upon his throne on a raised dais.

As the Pharaoh retained his stunned silence, Akunadin plunged forth with his justifications. "It was necessary for the protection of the kingdom. I did it for-."

Akunadin halted his speech as Akunumkanon rose off of his throne in outrage.

"You _DARE_ to say it was _necessary_! You try to _JUSTIFY_ the needless slaughter of a village!"

"My Pharaoh, I-," began Akunadin.

"_SILENCE!_" ordered Akunumkanon.

Akunadin lapsed into silence.

'_For my only brother, my flesh and blood, to betray me, and for what, some cursed trinkets that came to him in an evil dream!_' thought Akunumkanon as he looked down into the face of Akunadin.

Pharaoh Akunumkanon turned his face away from Akunadin with shame, prompting Akunadin to speak.

"Brother," entreated Akunadin, "turn not away from me in shame."

Akunumkanon's head swiveled back to face the snake before him.

"Do not call me brother, for you are _NOT_ my brother. Some evil has befallen him and stolen his spirit and placed an evil Ba in his body. _He_ would not have ordered the mindless extermination of that village under the false pretense of it being ordered by me. _He_ would not have plotted and sought power behind my back. _He_-."

Akunumkanon broke off and, with a strangled cry, clutched his chest. He stood frozen for what seemed like an eternity to those occupying the room and then crumpled forward. He would have fallen off of the dais to the white marble floor had Akunadin not caught him.

Atem would have jumped out of the tree to his father's side, but Seto placed a retraining hand on Atem's shoulder and shook his head, telling him that he shouldn't move or make a sound.

"Brother!" cried Akunadin as he leapt forward to catch Akunumkanon.

While cradling the fallen Pharaoh, Akunadin looked over his shoulder and ordered Shada and Mahado, "Fetch help and summon my nephew and niece."

Atem and Seto scrambled down the tree, nobody in the throne room noticed the rustling sound of leaves as the two boys hurried to find Nefra.

--------

**Present…**

"You called for us, father?" asked Nefra, breaking Atem from his daze.

Akunumkanon opened his eyes and recognition flared, giving him the appearance of gaining a bit more life. He weakly held out both of his hands to the twins, beckoning them to his side.

"Ah…my brave warrior and my fierce tiger lily…" wheezed Akunumkanon.

The Pharaoh paused to catch his breath. "I am fading from this world…I am being called to join our ancestors in the after-life so that I may take my place at the side of Ra…" Akunumkanon was seized by a coughing fit, and Atem and Nefra could hear his lungs rattle.

_'How could his strength have left him in a day's time? He has always been so strong…_' wondered Nefra.

Akunumkanon looked to his left at Atem and said, "Atem, my heir, you must rule over the kingdom in my stead… You are a skilled with a sword, but have much to learn…Be a kind, yet firm ruler and learn from your mistakes…Do not be stubborn and refuse help when it is offered. Accepting help does not make you weak…"

Akunumkanon then looked to his right and met Nefra's eyes.

"Nefra…my beautiful daughter…You are still young, yet you possess great beauty and poise…However not only do you posses those qualities, you are also strong and have a good head for affairs, both in training and in domestic, but you are willful…You must allow your brother to see to your well being…"

'_Curse the Fate that parts me from my children…_'

"You both must promise me that you will do as I wish; that you will safeguard one another…"

"We promise, Father," both Atem and Nefra promised as one and kissed their father's reed-like hands.

Akunumkanon nodded and held them to his side. Nefra and Atem heard his breathing repeatedly falter until he drew last breath.

Atem and Nefra stayed by his side into the afternoon, neither one daring to show their grief.

Late afternoon, Akunadin, along with Shada and Mahado, entered the Pharaoh's room and found Nefra and Atem each laying at their dead father's side. Akunadin turned and left the room for about five minutes and returned with two servants.

"You are both weary in heart, body, and spirit. These servants will escort you to your rooms so that you may rest and food will be brought to you later"

Neither had the heart to argue with their uncle, so they did as bid. The servants escorted them to their chambers and bowed themselves out. Nefra stayed put long enough to ascertain that she was alone and slipped out of her chambers and entered Atem's chambers. He was standing with his back to the door while he faced the window, watching the rain fall.

Nefra walked up next to him and put her hand in his. Atem's hand closed, returning the strength Nefra was giving him.

Neither one said a word as they watched the rain fall, wishing the rain was their tears.

A knock sounded, and when Atem bade the person to enter, Seto walked into the room carrying a tray of food.

"I had a feeling you would be here, too, Nefra. I brought more enough food for both of you. I will leave it here on the table next to the divan," Seto said as he placed the overloaded tray of food on the table and turned to leave.

"Please," began Atem, "stay here. Share our meal with us."

Atem looked at Nefra, who nodded in affirmation. She took a step forward and said, "As you said, there is more than enough, and we do not wish to be alone."

Seto looked at his two friends, sensing the sorrow and tension surrounding them, and nodded. '_At least I can do this for them, the ones who have shed much light in my dark and lonely life._'

The three friends sat down on the divan and shared the meal. Once they were done, Nefra walked Seto to the outer door of Atem's chambers.

"Many thanks for the kindness you have shown us, my friend," thanked the princess.

"It was nothing really; I just wanted to help you both in your time of need."

"Your soothing presence is more than enough to salve our raw emotions. Again, you have my gratitude." Nefra leaned forward and placed a light peck on his cheek. When she drew back, Seto had colored to a dull shade of red.

He nervously cleared his throat and bade Nefra a pleasant night.

Nefra walked back to Atem, who had followed them, his mouth in a half-hearted moue of disgust.

"Honestly Nefra, did you have to do that? I cannot believe he allowed you kiss him."

Nefra shrugged.

"Girls…," Atem said, wearily; he was not in the mood for the light-hearted banter he and Nefra usually indulged in when it came to the difference between boys and girls.

Nefra and Atem walked toward the bed and turned down the covers. They climbed into bed and pulled the covers up over them.

"Pleasant night, Nefra."

"Pleasant night, Atem," said Nefra as she leaned over and kissed Atem on the cheek, which he promptly rubbed off. "Boys…," said Nefra, feeling the same way as Atem.

--------

The twins slept until morning the next day. When they woke up, they both bathed themselves and walked to the garden, passing several servants bearing many traveling cases; they paid them no heed. The rain had breathed new life into the garden and the air smelled sweet. Lilies of the Valley and an assortment of jasmine, along with a variety of other flowers, permeated the air.

They seated themselves on a bench and listened to the birds sing, pacifying the grief they both held pent-up inside. Atem heard feet crunch on the graveled pathway and turned to see Seto walk down the path toward them. Atem nodded and nudged Nefra. Nefra looked up and smiled a genuine smile at Seto, causing him to look away as the tips of his ears colored red. Atem rolled his eyes at his friend's behavior to his sister's smile.

"What brings you here, Seto?" asked Atem.

"Your uncle, High Priest Akunadin, is searching for you."

"Why?" asked Nefra, but Seto was silent. She wrinkled her brow as she tried to determine his sudden unwillingness to answer her question. '_How odd. Why does he not tell me?_' thought Nefra.

Nefra went still as she heard more footsteps approach. Seto noticed her sudden stillness and looked over his shoulder.

"He is coming…and he has others with him," whispered Seto in an odd voice.

Akunadin, accompanied by four men they'd never seen before, approached them from the path that Seto had taken. All of the men bowed to Atem and then turned to bow at Nefra; none of them acknowledged Seto.

"Nefra," said Akunadin, "you must come with us."

"What? Why, Uncle?" asked Nefra, her tone giving voice to her bewilderment.

"You must leave Cairo ."

"I do not wish to leave Cairo ," argued Nefra.

Akunadin nodded to the four burly men; three went to stand around Nefra, one on each side and another from behind.

Nefra looked at Atem, who was being held back by the fourth man.

Atem tried to jerk away from his captor, but to no avail; he was powerless to come to Nefra's aid.

Nefra took a step toward Atem, but as soon as she did, the two men at her sides grabbed her by the arms in a tight grasp, causing her to wince.

Atem released a growl of fury at the rough handling Nefra received. The muscle in Seto's right cheek twitched from his pent-up wrath.

Akunadin walked up to Nefra's captors, Millennium Eye flashing in the sunlight, and said, "Harm Princess Nefra again, and you will regret it."

The two men relaxed their hold on Nefra once they realized that the man looking at them through a narrowed gaze was serious.

"Seto?" Nefra implored, eyes filling with tears.

He looked away from Nefra, hands clenched at his sides. '_I am sorry, Nefra. I only did what I did to keep you safe_'

At first, Nefra was stunned. '_He_ _turned away from me!_' she astounded. Suddenly, Nefra heard a strange whooshing noise in her ears as she realized the horrible truth behind Seto's strange behavior. Nefra felt a part of herself painfully die. Her heart cried out in agony as it slowly died. As suddenly the noise came, it ceased and she felt numb all over; then a great rage overtook her heart.

"You knew...You _KNEW_!" she cried, wild with rage.

Akunadin looked at Seto and marveled, 'So you did not tell what you had heard. It must have been when I explained that it is for her safety; that she would never willingly leave the palace. He must be very fond of her, indeed.'

Akunadin turned to the men holding Nefra and nodded again, signaling them to take her away. The men walked an unwilling Nefra up the path toward the barge that was docked on the West side of the Nile 's bank facing north.

One of the guards pushed her, causing her to stumble. She fell forward, out of her captors' grasp, hard onto her hands and knees, crying out in pain as the rocks broke her skin.

She scrambled to her feet and ran back, past the two men, toward Atem. One of the men reached out and missed her arm, instead the sound of tearing cloth rent the air, but Nefra paid no heed to it. The third man, the one who was behind her, caught her arms in a punishing grip, causing her to cry out, again.

Atem roared in anger, cursing the men. Seto gritted his teeth and fought the urge to go save Nefra, to rip out the man's throat.

The man picked her up and carried her back up the path toward the waiting barge.

"Atem!" cried Nefra. "Release me at once! Put me down; I wish to be with my brother! Let me go! Please, in the name of Ra, release me," cried Nefra brokenly.

Nefra turned in her captor's grasp, causing her to painfully wrench her arm. The last person she saw was Seto.

"_I will never forget this, Seto! Do you heed me! I will never forgive this!_" vowed Nefra.

One of the men punched her in the stomach, causing the air to rush out of her lungs and she went limp. The last thing she heard was Akunadin cursing the men and Atem calling her name as he struggled to free himself.

"Nefra! _NEFRA!_"

"Nefra…,"came a quiet whisper that was never heard.

Then, everything went black…

Thank you so much for reading the first chapter of _Forbidden_. The information I get for my fanfic is courtesy of Janime, so please do not come to me saying that I've ripped off the site, because that is not my intent and I've already run it by the owner and mods of Janime. I'd greatly appreciate your reviews on my story. You know what to do: Click the little button that says "Review." I'll eagerly await them!

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Élen: (huggles Seto) "We've done it! I've finaly posted this story."

Seto: "That's right. Now everyone will bow down and glorify me, including you."

Élen: (glares at Seto) "You're cute, but not that cute." turns and walks away.

Seto: "Fine, I don't need you..." looks over shoulder and sees Elen still walking away "Wait! I didn't mean

it!"(runs after Élen) "Only you write about me in such a flattering way! You know I love you!"


	2. Chapter 1: The Lilly of the Valley

**Forbidden: Chapter One-The Lilly of the Valley**

**By: Ëlen Lístë Aldá**

**Eight years later…**

The new pharaoh walked out of his chambers and passed a door that he'd passed hundreds of times, and each time he'd relive the pain and horror of that fateful day. It was over eight years ago, yet that day still tormented him.

He placed his hand on the white granite door that had not been opened since the day she was ripped from his life. 'If only I could have done something, anything, rather than have been the weak child I was, perhaps I could have saved her…'

Over the past eight years, he'd plagued himself with "what if's." Today, he'd vowed, he would put the past behind him. Today, the day of his birth…his and hers…would mark his official ascension to the throne of Egypt.

He'd been crowned Pharaoh earlier that morning, and this afternoon will be the celebration that all of Egypt will celebrate, whether they are in the palace celebrating it or not. Today was the day they'd prayed to the gods for; the day when Atem, son of Akunumkanon, ascended to the throne of Egypt.

Today was the day they would have both celebrated their coming of age. He would have been crowned Pharaoh of all of Egypt and she was to have been by his side, always by his side…

With a sigh, Atem, newly named Pharaoh, walked past his sister's door, and went down the white and pink-veined marble corridor out to the terrace that belonged to the royal family. He followed it, turned left, and followed the path that lead to the royal gardens.

He walked toward a Lily of the Valley bush, picked a perfect white lily, and sat down on the bench they used to sit on and looked up at the tall tree that grew in the middle of the garden; their special tree--his, Seto's and Nefra's. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply the light smell of the fragile flower. He sat in that one spot for what felt like hours, reliving old memories, memories filled with laughter and love.

He slowly stood and walked up the path that lead to the dock for his private barge; the same path that took Nefra from him. He stood at the edge of the dock and looked north.

Over the past eight years, he'd come and stand in this spot, praying that Nefra would be returned to him; it was futile for she never returned. He felt his throat tighten and swallowed hard. _'Father, I let you down; I could not protect her.'_

Mahado, looking for the pharaoh, knew where he could be found. Mahado found him at the dock, again. The sun was rising to his right and his profile was thrown in relief. His blood-red cape gently billowed as the wind ruffled his hair. The Millennium Puzzle shone in the sunlight, as did the crown he wore upon his brow.

He turned to face Mahado, his mentor and the father-figure that had been in his life for the past eight years, with a sad smile; his eyes shining like endless indigo pools of sorrow.

"It is alright, Mahado. I know she is not coming back; I only came here to say farewell," said Atem, his deep baritone voice tight with sorrow.

He turned back to face north. He brought the lily to his lips and kissed it, allowing a single tear to fall. His tear, too, kissed the lily. He looked at the twice kissed flower and tossed it into the Nile, where it floated.

'_I am sorry, Nefra, but I must let go of the past if I am to have a future. I know that you would forgive me…_'

Atem took in a steadying breath and turned back to Mahado, who still remained silent. He gave Mahado a half-hearted smile and motioned for him to speak.

"You needed me for something, Mahado?" spoke Atem, voice still husky with emotion.

"The festivities for your Ascension will be taking place shortly, my Pharaoh."

When Atem remained silent, Mahado cleared his throat.

"Perhaps you would not care for such frivolity on this day, my Pharaoh?"

Atem shook his head and walked with Mahado back into the garden. "No, let everything go as planned. I will not deny my people their enjoyment. I would have my reign begin sanguinely. It is an ill omen to begin a reign any other way."

Mahado, pleased with Atem's wisdom, smiled and nodded his approval.

"Shimon has secured a special gift for you, my Pharaoh."

"Oh? Has he? Now what is that old man up to?"

"Have you heard of the Lily of the Valley?"

"The dancer?"

"Yes, my Pharaoh. It is said that she is the best dancer and songstress in all of Egypt. She has granted us permission to witness her dance in honor of your birthday and ascent to the throne."

"I look forward to it," said the Pharaoh.

Mahado, changing the subject, faced Atem with a serious face. "My Pharaoh, the other priests have been talking…"

"Yes, Mahado, what have they said?"

"They feel it to be wise that you secure the line by claiming your queen and getting her with child as soon as possible…"

'_My queen…_'

_**Flashback…**_

_Atem sat upon his father's throne with Nefra standing at his right and Seto to his left._

"_Nefra, you will be my queen and Seto, you shall be my most trusted warrior…"_

"_But I wish to be a warrior, too, Atem!" protested Nefra._

"_You cannot be a warrior, Nefra! Only men can be warriors; you are just a silly girl!"_

"_Take that back!" cried Nefra._

"_No."_

"_Perhaps you could be a warrior-queen, Nefra," offered Seto, trying to avoid a conflict between his friends._

"_Yes, I shall be both," declared Nefra._

"_You cannot be both!" exclaimed Atem._

_Akunumkanon walked in a heard his children squabbling and young Seto was trying to play the peace-maker. _

"_The children of the Pharaoh should not bicker in public," admonished Akunumkanon, causing the children to start and lapse onto silence. He walked up to the children and sternly looked down at them._

"_Come now! What is all of this noise?" asked Akunumkanon in a stern voice._

_Nefra approached her father. "Atem will not let me be a warrior or a warrior-queen; he says that I can only be the Queen. It is not fair!" she cried as she stamped her foot for emphasis._

_Akunumkanon faced his rascal of a son. "Is this true, my son?"_

"_Yes, Father, it is true."_

"_Why will you not let your sister be a warrior?"_

"_Because," Atem cried, scandalized that his father would ask him such a question, "she is just a girl. Girls are worthless; they do not belong in war. They are only good for birthing children."_

_Akunumkanon lifted Atem off of his throne, replacing him, seated him on his lap, and looked him in the eye._

"_Never say that, my son. You know well enough that Nefra is skilled with a weapon. Someday, you may need someone to save your life and the only one you can completely trust, knowing that she'd give her life for yours, is Nefra; a girl." _

_Akunumkanon turned to faced Seto, and said with a gentle smile, "No slight is intended to you, young Seto."_

_Seto nodded, understanding the Pharaoh's meaning._

_Akunumkanon smiled at the young man and lifted Atem off of his lap. 'Young Seto will go far,' mused the aging Pharaoh._

"_Now, do you understand?"_

_When Atem nodded, Akunumkanon said, "You may go play now, children."_

_Atem, Seto, and Nefra exited the throne room in the only way young children knew how—noisily._

_Nefra turned and waved farewell to her father and turned to Atem, smiling._

"_Well, my Pharaoh, where would you like your warriors to conquer first?"_

_**End flashback…**_

"I had not thought about that. I used to assume that Nefra would come back and she would rule as my Queen…"

Atem heaved a sigh. '_Even when I try to let go, I cannot seem to do it._'

"Perhaps I will find a good woman to be my Queen at the festivities tonight. I suppose I shall have to pick a suitable woman to birth my heir."

"My Pharaoh, if you do not mind me saying so, you make it sound like you are picking a brood mare for one of your horses or a bitch for one of your dogs."

Atem realized that it was true, and it caught him off guard. He laughed--a real laugh. "Well, it would seem so, my friend. Let us hope that I find her soon, else I remain a free man."

"Tell me, Mahado, what does this Lily of the Valley look like?"

"I regret to say that not a soul knows. She keeps herself hidden…" Mahado broke off as a thought struck him. "Are you perhaps considering her to become your Queen?"

Atem sat down on the bench in front of the tree in the center of the large garden, motioning for Mahado to do the same. "I do not know, my friend. Now that I am Pharaoh, I feel lost in the dark without any light to illuminate my path. What if I should fall short of expectations?" Atem asked, staring ahead at the tree.

"It is not for me to determine your destiny, my Pharaoh, but know this: you are never alone; sometimes, we all get lost in the darkness."

"Ah! There you are!" said Shimon, former advisor to Pharaoh Akunumkanon, as he and the others from Atem's inner circle of seven priests, Mahado included. All bowed low to Atem.

The Pharaoh's Inner Circle of priests were: High Priest Mahado, the wielder of the Millennium Ring; High Priest Karim, the wielder of the Millennium Scales; High Priest Shada, the wielder of the Millennium Key; High Priestess Isis, the possessor of the Millennium Necklace; High Priest Akunadin, the bearer of the Millennium Eye; and High Priest Seto, the wielder of the Millennium Rod.

Mahado rose, apologizing to Shimon and the others for keeping the Pharaoh in his company for too long.

"Nonsense, my lad," said Shimon, as he waved his hand negligently in the air. "You have done no harm."

"My Pharaoh, it is time for you to go out and speak to your people," said the aged advisor, turning to the Pharaoh.

Atem nodded and rose from the bench he and Mahado were occupying and motioned for his entourage to follow.

High Priest Seto looked at the tree and then the path; his blue eyes turning midnight-blue. Even he was haunted by the memory of that day; that and her final words to him…

'_I will never forget this, Seto! Do you heed me! I will never forgive this!_'

The others saw him looking at the tree and knew he was remembering the princess. They all felt the loss of Princess Nefra.

"Come," said Atem, putting his hand on Seto's shoulder.

Seto looked at him and nodded. He and the others followed the Pharaoh into the palace and up to the top of the palace. Atem stood regal and tall before the mass of people who stood in the streets. When they saw him, they all became quite, waiting to hear their new pharaoh speak…

--------

**Meanwhile…**

As the sun rose over the Nile, transforming its green depths to a deep red, a barge made its way south toward the palace. The barge, though ordinary in appearance, carried a precious cargo. Within the barge were the Lily of the Valley and her bodyguards. No chances were being taken; she had to arrive at the Pharaoh's palace safely.

The Lily looked out the window of her cabin, wishing she could go above deck. She rose from the daybed she was resting on and walked toward the window. She leaned on the sill and breathed in deeply, savoring the fresh air. The breeze created by the motion of the barge played with her straight midnight waist-length hair. The oppression she felt from being cooped up in her cabin for the past two days was bursting to be released. She opened her mouth and let a song spring forth. It was a rich aria that lifted the sailors' hearts and made them row with rehabilitated vigor. She sang of hope and love and life renewed.

The barge sloshed through the crimson-stained depths of the Nile River with greater speed as though it had sprouted wings and was being pushed forward by the very hand of Hapi; they were nearing their destination, with the Lily's song spurring them on.

--------

As the Pharaoh and his entourage made their way down to the ground level of the palace, a servant approached, bowed low, and then whispered something in Shimon's ear. At his beaming smile, the others assumed that good tidings have been relayed.

Shimon dismissed the servant and turned a smile as bright as the sun at its zenith to his Pharaoh. He cleared his throat and said, "Sire, your present is about to arrive. If it is your wish, it can be viewed as the barge carrying it docks."

Atem smiled at the wizened advisor. "Ah, so my flower has arrived?"

Shimon's expression fell in disappointment. "But- H-how did you find out? It was to have been a secret…"

Shimon's expression of disappointment was so comical that the others chuckled, causing the man to stammer even more. Atem concealed a chuckle behind his hand, disguising it as a cough. "I am the Pharaoh. Of course I knew about it."

Shimon harrumphed, "Hmph! More like a young scamp told you!" Shimon cast a baleful look at Mahado, who turned beet red. The others, following their Pharaoh's example, began to cough in order to hide their mirth.

Atem walked up to Shimon and clapped him on the back, causing the old man to lurch forward. "Well, old friend, let us go see my surprise."

--------

As Atem and the others turned their steps toward the dock, the barge glided into the slip. The Lily did not even feel the vessel touch the dock. She rose off of the bed she'd been sleeping on and summoned her maid to make sure her coif was still in place and cast a glamour on herself to disguise her real features. The sun-kissed skin remained the same, but her features changed, became unremarkable. She slipped several gold bangles over her hands and fastened a gold band on her right upper arm. She looked at her Kohl-lined eyes and nodded in satisfaction. She wouldn't change the color of her eyes.

The Lily turned to her most trusted bodyguard and at the expression on his face; she crossed her arms over her generous bosom and tapped the toe of her sandal.

"I know you would prefer that I not do this, but I must. If all goes well, then he will live. If not, then he will die."

Ryske, who was leaning against the wall of the Lily's cabin, looked up at her, meeting her gaze. He looked her dead in the eye and said, "I do not like it. I will not have you jeopardizing your life. It is my desire that you should not be involved in the events that are to take place."

"However, it is _my_ wish to do so," she said, walking up to him, holding his gaze. "I must, Ryske. You know that."

He scowled and fixed his gaze to look at the wall over her shoulder. She put her right hand on his left cheek and made eye contact with him. "Please…"

His facial expression remained set, but his eyes softened. He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips. He lingered over her hand before he lowered it to her side.

"Some bodyguard I am," he said with a crooked smile. "A simple word and look and you have me agreeing to your mad scheme."

He looked deeply into her eyes. "We could get caught."

She nodded and casually said, "At worst executed."

He grimly smiled. "So what are we waiting for?"

She smiled radiantly and hugged him. He stiffly returned her embrace. "You have my thanks," she said beaming.

"You know, I would follow you into the pits of the Underworld if you but give me the word," he said as he moved to exit the cabin.

A knock sounded, signaling the arrival of the maidservant. As Ryske exited, admitting the elderly woman, the Lily whispered, "I know…"

--------

Atem's entourage stopped at the dock, awaiting the Lily of the Valley to alight from the vessel. A breeze blew from the east, ruffling their clothes as they waited. The anchor was dropped on the starboard side and a gangplank was lowered and several men got off to tie the wharf. A door opened, revealing a tall woman, cloaked in a long white cape, a scarf masking her face, and several bodyguards. They walked across the deck and paused at the railing, seeing the Pharaoh and his followers. She gracefully walked down the gangway, surrounded by her guards. She stopped before the Pharaoh and curtsied low, including the others in her show of respect.

"My Pharaoh," she murmured, training her eyes on the ground.

He inclined his head in acknowledgement and held out his hand, which she kissed. Inside, Atem had a strange feeling when her lips came in contact with his hand. It felt as though a current shot through his hand and up his arm. A puzzled frown furrowed his brow as he tried to understand the anomaly.

Shimon stepped forward and said in his deep, eternity-filled voice, "Welcome child. We are honored that you should deign to dance for our Pharaoh's ascension."

"No. It is I who am honored," she said. She looked up and met the Pharaoh's eyes, violet meeting violet. "I am honored to be asked to perform for the man who will ensure Egypt's greatness."

Atem was shocked to see that her eyes were violet, a very unusual color for Egyptians. '_Violet?_'

Atem searched her eyes for any hint of deceit, wondering how was it that she came to possess such unusual eyes. Upon finding no hint in her violet eyes, he nodded. "A set of chambers has been prepared for you to rest in before your performance this eve."

She gracefully curtsied. "My thanks, my Pharaoh."

She fluidly rose and inclined her head in the direction of the others. A servant materialized at Shimon's side and led the dancer and her minions to their chambers, past the collected powers and into the gardens.

As she passed the assembled, they felt the air crackled with charged energy and their items reacted to a strong power. They all looked at their mutual items and turned to the Pharaoh; he was looking after the dancer as she turned the bend.

All eyes were fixed upon the retreating back of the dancer. "Could she be the one to have caused our items to react?" asked one of Atem's priests.

"The mannerisms of a princess, that one," commented Karim, watching the gentle sway of her hips.

They awaited their Pharaoh's answer, but he appeared to be in some trance.

'_Who is she…?_'

Seto was also spellbound by the sinuous movements of the dancer. Though he couldn't put his finger on it, there was something familiar about her. '_Something about her tickles a memory in the back of my mind, some sort of vague recollection. What it is, I have no idea. However I intend to find out…_'

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Thank you for having read my second installment of _Forbidden_. Again, I'd greatly appreciate it if I recieved a few reviews on what you think of this new chapter. I promise the next chapter will make things a whole lot more clear.

Again, thank you.

Ëlen Lístë Aldá


	3. Chapter 2: Assassination!

**Forbidden: Chapter Two-Assassination! and A Ghost from the Past **

**By: Ëlen Lístë Aldá**

Inside two different chambers, in different wings of the palace, two people paced its lengths like caged lions—both restless and jumpy.

In one room paced the pharaoh; while in the other paced the Lily.

The pharaoh's mind was working in a flurry—trying to puzzle together the mystery that shrouded the dancer.

'_Who is that woman?_' he pondered to himself.

'_I cannot help but feel that her presence here is an ill omen. Is she perhaps a spy? Or perhaps something more dire? Or maybe she is who she claims to be—just a talented dancer who hides behind a scarf and cloak._'

The pharaoh walked to his balcony and leaned his elbows on the smooth white surface. In his frustration, he banged his fist on the surface of the banister, not making a single mark on the white stone. He paid no heed to the throbbing in his hand as he tried to piece together the mystery surrounding the dancer.

He was lost in thought that he didn't hear the knock upon his chamber door. Seto, per Atem's request, stood outside the door and waited for Atem to respond. After knocking a second time, he cautiously opened the door. After the abduction of the Princess, Atem turned to him, Shimon, and Mahado for support and because of that, they were always welcome into his chambers—even when he did not respond to the courteous knocking on his door.

He slowly walked in and looked around the chamber for the pharaoh. He saw him out on the balcony, one hand cradling the other, looking in the general direction of where the dancer's chambers were. Seto cleared his throat and broke the spell Atem seemed to be under. He turned and upon seeing Seto smiled.

Seto looked down at Atem's hands and asked, "All is well with you, my pharaoh?"

Atem's eyes widened in question and looked down at his hands. "Ah. It is nothing. I was just thinking about something that has me mystified."

Seto waited for Atem to continue. "That dancer, the Lily of the Valley. There is something not right," continued Atem. "Why after all this time, pick now to dance at the palace? I asked Shimon earlier and he did not commission her to come here. She came of her own free will. That brings me back to my question. Why?" Atem brought his uninjured hand to his mouth and worried his thumb nail, causing Seto to quirk a quizzical brow in askance. At Seto's look, he caught himself and grinned sheepishly. It was an old habit of his that only resurfaced when he is anxious about something.

Atem walked up to Seto and stopped about five paces from him. "I ask of you to be my eyes and ears—try to ferret out anything you can about this woman and her minions. For some odd reason, I loathe finding anything dire about her, but, too, am I loath letting this uneasy feeling pass without investigation. At this moment, I am most vulnerable. There are many who would seek to dethrone me. Seto, please do me this favor."

Seto executed a smart bowed—hand over his heart. "Of course, my Pharaoh. You have but to ask me anything and if it is my power to grant it, I will do so."

"I do not know why, but I have this sense that something life-changing is going to happen tonight. Whether for ill or not, I have a premonition that this woman will play a part in the events to unfold."

Seto exited with Atem's words ringing in his head. '_No matter what, I must unearth any bit of information on this Lily I can. And when I do find what I am looking for, I will expose her for who and what she really is._' Seto's steps took him to the wing the Lily was currently in.

Atem was right in thinking this because at this time, he is vulnerable. Many people will be coming and going in the palace. Foreign rulers coming to pay respect may in fact be plotting his assassination and usurp his newly acquired throne. He was loath to dismiss his feeling that something big going to unfold as being far-fetched. Little did he know that he wasn't so far-fetched.

--------

Ryske was leaning against a large gold-veined marble pillar, legs crossed negligently, and peeled the skin off of a fig with an ivory-handled, jewel encrusted, dagger that glinted evilly in the bright morning light. He was watching his mistress pace from one end of her bedchamber to the other and thought to himself that she looked a bit off kilter. Ryske watched her white gown swirl around behind as she executed another sharp about face. Her raven hair mimicked the train of her gown and her long dangling earrings swayed in a frenzy.

She had dropped the glamour she'd cast upon herself earlier and now stood in her true form. She was tall for a woman, yet not unseemly so. She walked with an inborn grace that came so natural to her. She had long, straight pitch-black hair that when standing in the sunlight, as she was now in walking toward the open balcony in her pacing, turned to a fiery red—matching her vibrant nature. She was fierce warrior and an excellent seat when on a wild horse. She had violet-colored eyes that flashed with emotion and which she used in a most disconcerting way to let you know just how she felt. Her skin was a light bronze color, mainly due to her scarred past. However, due to that past, she had many demons that she has yet to exorcise.

Deciding that he'd had enough of her pacing and ignoring him, he mocked, "Nervous?"

He was satisfied to see her abruptly stop pacing at the foot of her bed and spun around—facing him with a dark scowl. Ryske held up his hands in an innocent—warding—gesture, grinning.

Her eyes narrowed, taking in his posture, and mentally scoffed at the mockery of the gesture. She noted the seemingly slouchy, careless way he leaned against the pillar and knew that while he appeared to be at ease, he was in a position to take up a stance against anyone who threatened them—a habit picked up over their time together.

Ryske, the only person she trusted, was tall with broad shoulders and a tapered waist. He had long dark brown hair that when let down out of his customary ponytail, reached his shoulder blades. His skin was a dark bronze color and he had the most extraordinary eyes. His eyes were green—inherited from his long dead mother. He was arrogant and loved to tease the Lily. He had a scar that ran down from the bottom of his eye to his jawbone, but did nothing to detract from his rakish good-looks. He was the only one to know about her past and the life she was forced to endure. For his support and friendship during that time in her life, she was eternally grateful.

The dancer strode to the head of the bed and plucked a large pillow from a mound of several others. She hefted it—testing its weight. She smiled a cunning little smile and turned to face her long time friend and protector. His smile remained in place, but inside he was wondering what she was up to.

She cocked her head to the right; her eyes shining with a calculating light –reminding Ryske of the graceful, fine-boned falcon she keeps as a companion. His eyes flitted to the bird resting on a golden perch fashioned to house the most of noble birds. The bird cocked its head and looked Ryske dead in the eye—mimicking his mistress; it's piercing eyes so much like hers.

Rsyke's eyes skated back toward the woman beside the bed and didn't flicker an eye as she sent a small pillow flying with accuracy at his face. He caught it and was distracted by his easy victory. "What is the matter, p-," he didn't get the chance to finish speaking as the large pillow she originally picked up until it met his face with a satisfying _SPLAT!_

'_Face meet pillow. Pillow meet face,_' she mentally introduced the two as she dusted imaginary dust from her hands. She sauntered up to the small table holding the larger platter of assorted fruits and popped a sugared almond in her mouth.

Ryske lowered the pillow, grinning like an idiot, and was rewarded with a fig bouncing off his nose. Ryske roared with laughter and said between laughs, "Touchy…touchy! No need to get in a huff, lioness. There's nothing wrong with being nervous."

The Lily, remembering her pique, crossed her arms over her bosom, setting her bangles to come together with an annoyed _ting_. The gold bangles slid down her arms—revealing two thin scars, white with age, circling her fragile-looking wrists. "I am _not_ nervous about the deed!" she snapped.

Ryske, use to her mercurial mood swings, tossed her the pillows—which she deftly caught—and asked, "So what is it then? I really cannot believe that it is anxiety that plagues you."

"No," she sighed, walking past him and out to the balcony. She put her elbows on it and sighed. She looked out at the rest of the palace and the city beyond its protected walls. "I am a bit edgy, yes, but that is not it."

She made a sweeping gesture with her arm, encompassing the entire view offered from the balcony. "To be here, yet not explore…" '_To not see if it has changed since I'd last seen it._'

Ryske joined her at the balcony and looked out beyond the palace and saw the bazaar in the middle of the city. "You once lived here, somewhere in this place. I imagine you'd like to see it, if only shortly."

The repressed hope shining in her eyes was like a physical blow to the gut. Ryske gritted his teeth and ground out, "What's to stop you from visiting your former home?"

The light in her eyes dimmed. "Would it not be best that we stay put? What if we get caught?"

Ryske raised a quizzical brow. "Getting caught sneaking out?" he asked, deliberately misunderstanding her. When she still hesitated, he snorted scornfully. "Fainted-hearted?" he mocked.

"Of course not!" she fervently denied, chest swelling with indignation.

'_That's my girl,_' approved Ryske. Aloud he said, "Lead the way, m'lady. Your humble servant shall follow."

She laughed, "Idiot."

He watched her turn and walk to the roost for Re-Atun, her pet hawk, and made to put on the glove that protects her slender arm from the raptor's sharp talons. She momentarily looked at the scar on her wrist before she fully pulled on the glove.

'_Perhaps now I can put that chapter of my life behind me and finally have my revenge on those who did this to me._'

She held her arm toward the bird, and he hopped on. She stroked his feathery breast with the back of her forefinger and watched as he closed his eyes in ecstasy. She chuckled lightly and walked back to Ryske. "I am taking him with us. He has been cooped up for too long. The brief flights he took during our journey are not enough. He needs to be in the sky."

"As his mistress needs to be free from this confining chamber," laughed Ryske. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted it for the woman across from him lost some of the glow in her smile.

Ryske cursed silently to himself and ran his hand through his long tresses. "I'm sorry, princess. I need to think before I open my mouth and say things to upset you. You know I never meant it as a reference to—"

She cut him off with a trill of laughter that sounded forced, even to herself. "Do not trouble yourself over it." She whispered lightly, "I know you meant no harm by the innocent comment."

The dancer mentally shook herself out of her bleak thoughts and laughed—walking past him on her way toward the door. As she walked past him, he bowed, his long bangs falling forward—effectively hiding his face. His mistress did not see the worried expression on his face as she walked with a bounce in her step out the door.

--------

**Meanwhile…**

High Priest Seto was walking through the same wing that housed the dancer. He wasn't sure why, but he did not completely trust that woman. There was something about her, something that he sensed she kept hidden about herself. '_Perhaps by figuring it out, I'll solve the dilemma behind this mysterious woman._'

He was lost in his musings when the door to his left was opened and a mass of curves and feathers came tripping out the door—followed by two sets of squawks that pierced his ears. Re-Atun, being a bird, flew off of his mistress' arm as she collided with the priest.

Down went the Lily and Seto on the marble floor. Seto instinctively turned, falling on his back, to prevent her from getting hurt. Ryske charged out of the room, dagger drawn in reaction to his mistress' cry of alarm. He looked down at the two twisted figures on the floor and coughed, sheathing the weapon.

The priest was on his back, the bottom of his robe caught in the dancer's sandals. Her skirt was halfway up, showing a tantalizing display of leg. Her face was in his and her hands braced her weight at both sides of his head. His hands encircled her waist and she lay between his legs. Neither noticed that their faces were inches apart as startled pairs of royal blue and purple eyes met.

The fallen woman was the first to react. She pushed herself off and tried to stand. He did likewise, but caused her to stumble, neither one knowing that they were stuck. He reacted quickly and caught her.

"If you would cease to move, perhaps I can free us," he said impatiently. The dancer went as still as she possibly could and tried to retain her dignity as she watched the priest bend over at the waist and lift the hem of her dress to free them. She heard coughing noises come from the direction of Ryske and saw him trying not to laugh at her as Re-Atun rested on the leather on Ryske's shoulder. Her cheeks were burning as she saw Ryske cover his mouth to muffle his laughter.

Seto watched her through guarded eyes as she gathered her tattered dignity about her like the cloak she wore.

'_Not exactly what I had in mind, but perhaps it was meant that I should encounter her this way. However, given the choice, I would not have picked this route of encounter._'

With a sigh of resignation, he knelt down to free them. As he was working on freeing themselves, he felt her stiffen and at the accidental brush of the back of his hand against her smooth leg, she went as still as the statue next her door. His own hand froze at the innocent contact. He felt his own cheeks warm and knew that a tide of color flooded his cheeks much in the fashion the dancer's cheeks turned rosy.

Wondering if she was ok, Seto looked up in time to catch her send Ryske a glare meant to turn him into a block of ice. Thinking her reaction a bit uncalled for, he focused on freedom and ignored the snickering coming from her companion.

Seto freed himself and let the woman's dress fall back into place. He fluidly rose to his feet and took a step back away from his quarry. This granted the Lily to get a better look at him. He wore the rich clothing of a priest of some rank, probably High Priest. He wore an indigo-blue tunic made of very fine material, probably silk from the East, over and undertunic of pure white. This only made his royal blue eyes all the more noticeable. The undertunic reached his ankles, revealing leather sandals that tied around the ankle. On the front of his tunic was the Ankh, the symbol of eternity. He wore on his head a hat of the same indigo-blue color with the serpent's head gracing the front, flanked by gold rays. About his waist was a sash again of the same material of the tunic and was streaked with gold.

'_Rather rich for him,_' thought the Lily. She then saw him bend over to pick up the Millennium Rod. She eyes imperceptibly narrowed and chilled.

Seto watched the Lily take in his appearance and give him a frosty stare in stride. Not once did he give any indication that her obvious regard was unnerving for him. Her kohl-lined eyes were so intense that it felt like she was looking at his very soul.

He also did his own appraisal of her. His depthless blue eyes scoured her from head to toe—taking in her height, her features visible without the scarf, and her figure. Though not as tall as he is, she was still tall. She had violet eyes that were done no justice in the sallow complexion. As expected, she had a graceful body suited to her profession. Other than that, there was nothing remarkable about her. However, his eyes kept straying to hers. '_Something about her eyes…_'

Inside, she felt a fission of unease. It was like he could see all her secrets and strip away the barriers to see straight into her scarred heart. She mentally shook herself and told herself she was being fanciful. She inclined her head and said, "Yes? Was it mere coincidence that you happened in this corridor, or were you looking for me?"

Seto cleared his jumbled thoughts and responded, "Yes, I was sent by Pharaoh Atem to see if you required anything?"

"He sent you?" she asked incredulous. "Why sent a priest?"

The tips of Seto's ears turned red. The Lily, thinking she'd insulted him in some way and fearing he would not let her pass, went on to say, "I do not question the decision of the pharaoh, but I find it hard to believe that he would have you do such a menial duty."

"Since there is much happening in the palace, and no one to see to your entertainment, I was asked to provide what services I can."

"Hmmm. Perhaps you can be of service. We would like to venture out into the marketplace and take in the activity. My man and I are in sore need to something to do and my feathered friend here needs to take flight. If it is not asking too much, would you please conduct us?"

Seto nodded his head in affirmation. "Of course. Please follow me." '_Perhaps now that I am in close proximity, I shall uncover something._'

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**In the Marketplace.**

The Lily, accompanied by Ryske and Seto, walked through the crowded streets of Cairo. Overhead, Re-Atun ruled over the skies and cried out his superiority. Her eyes glowed with excitement as she took in the sites and was assaulted by the various noises and smells unique to the marketplace. The smells of human odors and animals would have been enough to sicken most people, but at this moment, she did not care. She was home and intended to live out the moment. She carefully skirted a pack of camels and stepped around the pile of drippings. She was bumped and jostled, and she enjoyed every moment of it. Trailing along behind here were Ryske with his hand on the hilt of his sword and Seto, looking unflustered in the crowded setting.

Peddlers and hawkers, trying to sell their wares to make their living, shouted in various languages. An old woman held a bolt of cloth in front the Lily and asked her in Arabic if she would like to buy the material.

"It is a very soft material, see?" She brought the material to the Lily's face.

The Lily responded in Arabic saying, "No thank you, mother. I am only here to explore my home."

"Ah. If not for yourself, then perhaps buy it to make a dress to impress your man?"

The Lily started, "My man?"

"Aye, child." The old woman nodded to the men standing behind the dancer.

"Oh!" said the dancer. "He is not my man. Just a friend."

The old woman looked at Ryske. "Such a strong and handsome man." Her gaze skated to Seto's. "Ah, my lord High Priest," she said in Egyptian, bowing. "What brings you out on the day of our Pharaoh's joyous day?"

Seto nodded his head in acknowledgement. "Good day, Seba. The pharaoh asked that I escort his esteemed guest about the city."

The Lily started at the name. 'Seba? Could this really be the same woman who told her stories about the past a long time ago?' She was so lost in her musings that she was oblivious to her surroundings until she felt someone bump into her. More like latch onto her.

She came to with in a snap and looked down at her legs to find a little urchin hanging onto her like a barnacle. A boy of about ten years old with a mane of wild black hair that was a tangled mess and more than likely had some passengers in board was firmly latched onto her. She looked at him in confusion and was about to speak when a loud voice boomed over the drone of commerce.

"You! Get back here!" shouted a rotund man with florid cheeks, who came charging in their direction like a raging beast.

"Please my lady. Do not let him get me," came a muffled plead from the quivering boy.

The wild man came to a halt before the astonished woman and cowering child. "I have you at last. You'll not get away from me this time!" he wheezed. He was bent over at the waist—trying to catch his breath.

"Sir," asked the dancer. "What has this child done that you come charging before me and disturb your fellow vendors?"

"This child, as you put it," he said and spat on the boy, causing the Lily to grit her teeth in anger. "He stole from me. It's not the first time. This time he was alone and I caught him red-handed."

"What did he steal?" asked the Lily in an effort to draw out the conversation. She got a good look at him and found him lacking in every way possible. His matted, thinning hair and dirty clothes showed his lack of interest in his personal appearance.

"He stole a loaf of some of my best bread. Now, my thanks, woman, for catching the little thief." The man reached out his hand to grab the boy. She looked at his hands and mentally shuddered. '_Were I still a thief, I would not filch his bread unless I were desperate._'

The Lily's hand shot out and grabbed the man's wrist. "He is just a child. Have you any idea what it is like to go hungry? To wonder when your next meal is, if ever?"

The man didn't care one whit about her impassioned speech and tried to break her grip on his wrist. "Listen, woman. I have a business to run and could care less about some rat that will have his hand cut off for his thievery."

The dancer tightened her grip on his wrist painfully, causing him to widen his eyes in wonder that such a slight woman could inflict pain upon him.

"You are nothing more than a pig. You are not worth the air you consume," she said this with scornful eyes.

Seto, seeing this made a move to intervene. He turned to Ryske and asked, "Are you not going to help your mistress?"

Ryske leaned against the wall near Seba's stand. "She can take care of herself," he said to the priest.

Ryske assessed the situation in a glance and knew that she was in no real danger. Big though he may be, she was capable of holding her own against others his size and lack of backbone.

"She is your mistress. You are charged with ensuring her safety and you leave her to defend herself against that pig?" astounded Seto.

"Watch," was all Ryske had to say.

His small eyes narrowed, giving her all the warning she needed. The man made a move to strike the Lily, who by that time had the boy behind her and had the back of her cloak in a death grip. In a flash, she had a sai in her hand and had the tip pointed directly at the vendor's jugular.

"If you want to live, I suggest you turn around now and go back to your stand. I have no qualms over ending your miserable existence." To emphasis her point, the tip of her weapon pricked his skin and a thin trail of blood ran down his throat to disappear into the neckline of his dirty shirt.

The man turned white under his sunburned face and knew that she was not lying. He'd seen the look in her eyes before, but in different men. It was the look of one who'd killed people.

He turned tail quickly enough and ran back to his stand. He stood there a shaking mass of fat and stared at the woman with naked fear.

Seto saw this and turned to Ryske. All he said was, "I told you she can take care of herself."

All this did was make Seto wonder even more about this woman. '_First, she is arrogant. Then she defends a waif and threatens a man with a weapon. No, she is not all what she appears to be,_' mused Seto.

"He is coming with us," announced the woman in an imperious tone of voice.

"Anything you say, princess," replied Ryske, causing Seto to abandon his musings.

"Princess?" asked Seto. "Why do you call her princess?"

Ryske turned to the priest. "Look at her. She thinks she's queen of the world or something from her mannerisms. I just like to call her that to rile her up. For some reason it gets under her skin. Besides, if I told you why, I'd have to kill you," he said with a wink in the direction of the performer who overheard their discussion and frowned at them.

--------

The dancer kept her hand in the child's as they walked past the Avenue of the Sphinxes. '_The boy is filthy and in need of a good scrubbing,_' she thought to herself. '_And I intend to see that he gets it._'

The boy looked around at his surroundings in wonder as he allowed himself to be led back toward the palace. He was quiet the whole way through the Avenue, but the nice lady holding his hand told him stories about the places they went by on their way toward the palace. Never had he been there before and the thought of going into the palace was more than a bit scary. He returned his gaze to the lady and absorbed all the information she was providing.

Seto spoke up from behind. "How is it that you know so much about the city? This is not the first time you have been to the city?"

The dancer stopped and looked at the Inner Courtyard with an indefinable emotion causing her eyes to darken in something reminiscent to pain in Seto's opinion. "No, it is not the first time I have seen the city. Once, long ago, this city was my home…Because of certain circumstances, I had to leave. This is the first time I have returned to my birthplace," she said, effectively ending the subject.

--------

After having made sure the child, Tsil, was washed and clothed and placed in a decent bed in the chamber next to hers, the Lily made her own preparations for the evening…

--------

A knock sounded on the door and the woman threw a cloak over what she was working on and turned from the preparations on the bed to answer the door. A cloaked man entered the chamber and was drawn aside.

"What're you doing here?" hissed the voice of the woman.

"I came to see how the preparations were going," answered the voice of the man in a low whisper.

The woman smirked. "If I can get close enough to the pharaoh, this'll get rid of him for good." She turned back to the bed and drew back the cloak to reveal a small evil looking dagger. The dagger was small enough to fit in the palm of the hand. "I'd this made during my journey to the marketplace. As you can see, it's small enough to fit in my hand."

The man picked up the dagger and held it. He looked at the tip and then at the vials on the bed. He raised a quizzical brow and brought his gaze back to the woman.

"Poison," was all she said.

The man smiled and dropped the lethal weapon onto the bed. "How do you plan t'get close to him?" asked the woman's accomplice.

"With this," she said and strode to the large room that housed her clothes. She came back and draped the clothing across the foot of the bed.

The woman smiled, "He'll never suspect. At last we can have our revenge."

The disguise belonging to the woman slithered down the side of the bed and landed on the floor with a chime and a tinkle and stayed there in a puddle of silk and beads. The light of the torches caught the beads and reflected the light back. The man and woman were too busy making their plans of attack and escape to pay any heed to the fallen dancer's dress.

--------

The Lily of the Valley took one final look at her ensemble and nodded in approval. She gracefully walked from her room when summoned to do her performance and entered the hall. The hall was made of white marble and the stone was cool under her feet. She felt a slight chill run through her and knew it to be excitement and anticipation. When she entered, the crowded room full of royalty and ministers from various kingdoms grew hushed and whispers ran rampant. She looked toward the throne centered at the back of the hall and saw the pharaoh sitting on the huge gold-framed, purple-cushioned royal seat. Next to him, on the left, was Akunadin; Shada; the female priestess, Isis; and Karim. To his left were Shimon; Mahado;and Seto.

The pharaoh was resplendent in a sarong and sleeveless top of pure white and gold sandals upon his feet. Settled about his broad shoulders was a blood-red cloak that partially concealed the gold necklace and breastplate he wore. About both of his upper arms and wrists were gold bands. She gazed upon his regal visage and felt a faint stirring from within. She shook herself and focused her mind on her goal.

All attention was focused on her as she continued to furtively scan the room. She saw some dancers other than herself mingle with the crowd. She spotted Ryske hidden in the crowd, dressed as a servant fanning a rather generously endowed queen, who basked in the attention she was receiving from the handsome servant.

--------

Atem imperceptibly leaned forward in his seat and made eye contact with Seto—remembering their conversation from earlier that afternoon.

**_Earlier that day in the pharaoh's chambers. _**

"_I do not know what, my Pharaoh, but there is something that does not ring true with that woman. She acts like some sort of member of a caste above herself. She defends an orphan stealing bread in order to live to an angry baker and talks about starving while holding an evil looking weapon to his throat," said Seto, retelling the days events to Atem. _

_Atem, silent up until that moment said, "It would seem that our dancer is a walking contradiction. She is but a hired servant to dance for the masses for all the independence she claims to have. She speaks of starving and preaches to a common baker while protecting a child with a weapon." _

_Atem walked to his favorite chair and leaned against it. "This woman is indeed highly confusing," he mused aloud. He turned to Seto and asked, "What is your impression of her?"_

_Seto's eyes widened a bit, but answered, "I do not believe that she is being entirely truthful about herself. She is hiding something—causing me to have my reservations about her. However I will say this, she does seem to genuinely be a good person. If she were otherwise, I would have sensed it."_

"_Hmmm," was all the man across from him had to say. "You should know, Seto, that I trust your judgment. I, too, feel that she is not evil, but neither do I trust her. Excellent work, my friend," finished the pharaoh. _

_Seto, taking that as his cue to leave, rose and bowed low before his best friend. He turned to leave when Atem said, "Seto, please be careful. I still sense that something will happen tonight."_

Atem saw her now and his breath caught. She was beautiful. But more than that, she seemed vaguely familiar. Around him, he heard the appreciative murmurs of the men present and felt faintly resentful.

She wore her long dark hair loose, braids with beads and golden thread strung through them hidden in the thick folds, and it fell in soft waves down to her waist. She smelled of a light combination of lilies and jasmine. She rubbed crushed mother of pearl on her skin after bathing and now her skin softly glowed and shimmered in the torchlight. Her eyes were thickly lined with kohl and they stood out with dramatic flare. She wore a gauzy scarf made of a nearly sheer material that hid the lower half of her face. She wore a long white skirt divided on both sides up to her hips that revealed her trim feet and a vast amount of long, slim legs. The skirt was a wrap around that was held in place by an old and ornate brooch at her right hip. She was bare footed and wore some bangles around her ankles. She wore her customary bangles around her wrists that tinged with each move of her arm and her gold arm band. For this occasion, she wore no top, but rather many necklaces. The top ones were short enough to reach just below her collarbone and the longest below the curve of her breasts. The necklaces were made of many fiery colors all ranging from a pale coral to amber to brilliant ruby.

Shimon smiled with satisfaction and looked at his young master. Pleased that he was spellbound, Shimon settled down to watch the performance, he was sure, of a lifetime.

Seto's own reaction was different. He was shocked. '_She looks different than how she did in the marketplace today. It is like something is different. She holds herself more regally, but it is something more than that. I wish I could place it._'

Akunadin, on the other hand, reacted in a wholly different way than both his nephew and fellow priest. His eyes widened with shock that bordered on horror as he saw the dancer look their direction and briefly glance at himself.

'_It cannot be…_'

She glided to the center of the hall, which was cleared for her performance, and took up her position. The hall got so silent—the flickering of the torches could be heard along with the ragged breathing of those already under her spell. As the musicians began to play, she stayed frozen in place with her arms down loosely at her sides. Her left foot had the forward, showing she was going to start with her right. Her eyes were trained to the floor and gave off the appearance of being in a daze. Slowly, she began to sway with the beat and raised her arms, plying the castanets in her hands. Her right arm was raised above her head and her left arm was curled inward, her hands graceful and fast as she played the beat on the little shells.

She stepped forward with her right foot and executed a quick turn. She stamped, swayed, dipped, and gyrated to the music. She executed a series of spinning bounds around the perimeter of the clearing, chassed, and leap into the air with the grace of a gazelle. Her hair flew behind her and wrapped around her like a silken black web. As the music slowed a bit, she turned, went down on her knee and thrusting out her chest slowly rose back up. Her multitude of necklaces clinked and swayed revealing bits of skin that was hidden by the gems. She could feel the beat of the music in sync with her heart. She felt a warmth spread through her limbs as she did every time she danced. The music grew louder as she danced into a crescendo.

She drew to a dramatic halt with the music. She stood in place, chest heaving, as she caught her breath. Everyone in the hall forgot to breathe until she was done, and in a gust, they exhaled and released a mighty cheer.

The Lily dipped a curtsey to the pharaoh and the assembly. As she rose, she removed the dagger she'd kept hidden in a secret pocket in her skirt and hurled it in the direction of the pharaoh. The Inner Six ran in front of the pharaoh to protect him, but not quick enough to stop the projectile.

Screams issued forth and she was promptly surrounded by guards. She had a multitude of spears and swords trained on her, ready to cut her down lest she move a muscle. Ryske was watching in the crowd; he made a move to help her, but she shook her head. He stopped in his tracks and watched as she was brought before the pharaoh. Whispers, curses, and a number of foul words followed her as she was led to the pharaoh. "_Murderess…_" "_Filthy whore!_" "_Kill her!_" Her arms were held captive above the elbow and she was forced down on her knees at his feet.

"SILENCE!" Atem ordered the hall. All at once the babble died down and once again nothing could be heard other than the flickering of the torches. He rose from his throne, tossing his cloak behind, and stood three feet away from the woman. For some odd reason, seeing her in that position was disturbing.

"Look at me," he ordered the figure kneeling before him in a puddle of silk and long hair.

She raised her head and met his eyes square on.

"You attempted to kill me. You missed, but do not expect that to save you. An attempt is still an attempt. You should be glad that you missed, because you will not receive the ultimate punishment, but I would like to know why. I have done nothing, in my knowledge to warrant this attack by anyone. So I am asking, why?" his face mirroring his confusion and his anger at being attacked.

"Your life is threatened and you want to know why I threw a dagger in your direction? Has he told you nothing about me?" she asked, her eyes going to Seto, who was looking at her closely.

"I know he was meant to spy for you. I admit it was a wise thing to do. I would not have expected anything less," she continued.

She returned her gaze to the man before her. "Why do you think I missed?"

"If you had hit your intended target, then I would be dead," he countered.

The Lily laughed. "I was trained by one of the best warriors in this kingdom. I do not miss. If you need proof that I did not miss my intended target, then look behind you."

Everyone turned and looked behind where the pharaoh previously sat. There, on the floor, laid a woman dressed as one of the dancers who performed before the Lily. In her hand was a small dagger that she intended to use to kill the pharaoh. Another loud bit of murmuring broke the silence and rose to great heights. In all the excitement, no one noticed the woman's body until that moment.

Atem, shaken, turned to look at the woman kneeling before him, as did everyone else.

"You mean to tell me that you saved me?" he asked, astonished. The crowd in the hall went silent in order to hear what she had to say.

"Yes," she breathed. The thin gauzy material gently billowed with her labored breathing. "I learned of it not too long ago. She and a man intended to come here and murder you during all the festivities. I could not allow that to happen."

"And so you risked your life to save mine? Why?" he wondered aloud.

She looked away. "Does there have to be a reason?"

Atem closely peered down into her face. "Who are you?"

The Lily sighed. "I suppose you will not rest until you now. You always were stubborn."

Everyone started at this bit of intimate knowledge on her part. Everyone, but Akunadin and he looked like he'd seen a ghost.

"If your men would be so kind?" she said, gesturing to her arms.

Atem nodded, and her arms were released. She rubbed some life back into them to cover up her nervousness. She came this far and was now uncertain of which course to take. She fingered the brooch at her hip and silently prayed for guidance. Suddenly, she knew what she must do; it was whispered in her ear by a kind voice.

She reached for the brooch covering the knot she'd tied to hold her skirt together. She removed it and handed it to Atem. "You recognize this?"

He took it and stared at it silently. When he raised his eyes to meet hers, it was with hard eyes, "Where did you get this, woman?" He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. "Answer me!"

Seto looked at the brooch and felt a memory hit him like a tidal wave. The last time he'd seen that particular piece of jewelry, it was holding the top of Nefra's tunic closed at her shoulder….the day she was taken. Seto's keen mind began to work, and he began to piece the pieces together and was shaken by what he was discovering.

"Eight long years ago, you had a sister. A twin sister. The day following our previous pharaoh's death, she was taken away by boat to a place that was unknown. More than likely she was presumed to be in the Afterlife with her father. However, that was not the case. She survived by any means possible and vowed to herself and her dead father that she would make it back to her brother in whatever manner she could."

The silence in the hall was heavy as they waited for her to continue.

With a sigh, she murmured, cryptically, "It would be nice to not have to hide anymore…to forever more be hiding in the shadows." She reached up and removed the gauze covering the lower part of her face. She brought her arm down to her side and let the material dangle in her hand, then fall to the floor. Her whole demeanor changed. She stood straighter, taller. It was like by removing the thin scrape of material, a heavy weight was lifted from her, leaving her a different person. A very familiar person. In fact, she may as well as have been facing a looking glass, because her mirror image was facing her. Same for the confused man standing in front of her.

"I would be surprised if you recognized me. Much has changed me," she said with a wry smile.

"It cannot be…" Atem murmured, violet eyes widening. Shock clearly written in his features.

"Yes, it can. Is that not right, Uncle?" she said, casually tossing Akunadin the question while not taking her eyes off of the confused man before her.

"It is…" began Akunadin, running his tongue over his dry lips.

"Do I truly look so different that you cannot even recognize your own flesh and blood?" She paused. "Atem…?" she began, reaching out her hand. '_Please, please, let him reach out to me. Let him recognize me,_' her mind anguished. Her eyes filled with tears, pleading with him to remember, as she waited for him to react.

"Nef—–Nefra." Atem strangled out. The words landed on the assembly like a tons of bricks. Whispers ran rampant. "_Nefra?_" "_Who is she?_" "_The princess…_" "_The princess has returned…_"

At that moment, Seto's suspicions were proved correct; her plea driving it home. Seto let out a little noise and took a hesitant step toward her, but drew back—remembering how they'd parted.

'_Nefra…'_

--------

Ëlen: Thank you all so much! I—

Seto: You didn't make me out the way I should be portrayed… (interrupts Seto)

Ëlen: (turns to Seto) Shush, you big old baby! You are so hard to please.

Seto: Yes, but you know you love me. (smirks, is so sure of himself)

Ëlen: Look I forgave you that last time…Don't push your luck buster. I have no qualms

in re-writing your role…(evil grin) How do you feel about wearing a pink sarong

with pretty beads sequined into it and a pretty flower to go into your hair? (picks up pencil…)

Seto: (eyes narrowed) You wouldn't. You'd ruin your…dubious story and piss off my

fan girl contingent.

Ëlen: (duct tapes Seto's mouth and kisses him) There I like you so much better this way.

Seto: (death glare) Hmmmph mmmmffth phmmmth!

Ëlen: (syrupy smile) I love you, too, Seto sweety.


	4. Chapter 3: Unwilling to Forgive?

**Forbidden: Chapter Three-Long Awaited Reunion and Unwilling to Forgive?**

**By: Ëlen Lístë Aldá**

'_Nefra…_'

Atem held out a slightly unsteady hand to Nefra. "Is that really you, sister?" he whispered, clearly shaken. The hope shining in his eyes too painful to look upon, causing those near him to look away.

His hand cupped her cheek, causing her eyes to widen. Her vision swam as her tears threatened to overflow. Twin sets of indigo-blue eyes met and a silent conversation passed between the two.

He pulled her closer to him and rested his forehead against hers. She could feel his crown, warmed by his body heat, against her skin. She closed her eyes in bliss and opened her eyes to continue gazing into his beloved eyes; both were oblivious to the crowd still in the hall. He smiled that tender, boyish-smile of his and quietly breathed, "Long have I prayed for and dreamed of this day."

"Atem!" she cried with a sob and launched herself into his open arms. She swore to herself that she would not make a fool of herself and have a breakdown, but being with her brother again was too much for her, and she felt some of the ice around her heart break—a flood of long suppressed emotion sweeping out and engulfing her mind with the enormity of it.

Atem held her in his arms, rocking her, and breathed a sigh of contentment. '_Thank you, Ra, for answering my prayers at long last._'

The hall was silent as brother and sister embraced for the first time in eight years.

Everyone was so caught up in the moment, on one noticed the figure of a man slithering between people, approaching the reunited siblings.

Out of the corner of his eye, Seto detected the movement. He also saw Nefra's man, dressed as a servant, move to intercept him. He stealthily caught up to him, covered his mouth, and pulled him back behind the crowd and outside the hall through one of the many arched doorways leading into the corridor and to where several guards stood. The man would have more than likely have been arrested and marched toward the prisons for interrogation. Ryske returned to the hall shortly and saw Seto watching him. He nodded his head, telling him that all was well and taken care of. Seto inclined his head and focused his attention back on his friends; them being none the wiser to the imminent threat that they were in.

Atem turned Nefra around and announced to the hall, "Today was to have been the celebration of my becoming pharaoh, but now, there is more to celebrate. My sister, Princess Nefra, had returned! Let us all feast and be merry!"

--------

The celebration went long into the night and many came forward to pay homage to the returned princess. Shimon was the first to greet her with a warmth that touched her heart.

"Ah, my child," he said, lightly clasping her hand between two of his own after having placed a light kiss on its back. "It does my old heart good to see your pretty face again. Though not my neck! You have grown much over the years, Princess Nefra. I am sure that one day, when you are comfortable, you will fill this old man's ear with the many adventures you had," he said, giving her hand a warm squeeze.

Nefra smiled but was more than sure that she would not be telling her sordid past to anyone for a long time. Better that her father's best friend believe that she had had a grand time and not privy to the truth that would more than likely shock him. She was fond of him and did not want him to think any less of herself.

Next was Akunadin. Her smile was a bit brittle when he came forward and stiffly hugged her slender frame. She still felt revolution toward the man for his despicable crime, but in the back of her mind, she could understand why she was sent away. It was not his fault that the events that followed happened. Resent it, she did, being parted, but she could not blame him for that.

He nervously cleared his throat and licked his dry lips. "Nefra," he began, "I am sorry for what I did. I did it for the most innocent reasons. I had to ensure the line in any way that I could. That method took root, and I thought it the best."

Nefra calmly listened to his apology and contained a cynical smile. "All is well, Uncle. I understand what you did and the motives behind it. I did not like it, and I would be labeled a liar if I said I still do, but I understand that it was to ensure my safety and the preservation of the dynasty. Do not trouble yourself over it any longer, please," she ended graciously.

Seto, listening to this, took into account every word and caught every underlying meaning. While she forgave her uncle, she did not forgive the act—meaning that she more than likely would not forgive him. A part of his heart cried out at this knowledge, but he forced the feeling down and accepted it as his due. '_What was I to expect?_' he asked himself. Her last words to him haunted him for years and returned to him with force.

'_I will never forget this, Seto! Do you heed me! I will never forgive this!_'

It was torment for him, but he knew that he did what he thought was best. All he wanted to do was ensure her safety. That was all… Seto was lost in his musings as others came forward.

Mahado approached Nefra and bowed low. "Princess," he said thickly, "it is good to have you home."

Nefra smiled down at her brother's former guardian. She kneeled down before him and held his face up so that he looked her in the eye, causing many to wonder aloud at her action. "_The Princess is kneeling!_" "_But he_ _is only a priest, albeit a high priest, yet still…_" "Thank you, Mahado, for protecting my brother with your life and for doing your best to fill the shoes of my father."

Mahado's warm brown eyes had a melting effect to them as he absorbed what was happening. "It was an honor to have done so." She hugged her brother's mentor and friend, catching him off guard. "You are close to my brother, and I know he trusts you with his life. I hope that you and I can also share the same bonds of friendship."

She pulled back, eyes warm, and gained Mahado's promise to form a lasting friendship. Following him were Isis, Shada,and Karim. They bowed before her, added their own words of welcome, and pledge to protect her alongside the pharaoh. She answered saying that she welcomed their kind words and looked forward to forming a friendship with them, too. To Karim, she poked, "Mannerisms of a princess, hm?" He had the grace to turn a dull red below his dark tan. She knew that he didn't think she'd heard it, but at his volume, his words were certainly loud enough to reach her sensitive ears.

She heard another well-wisher walk toward her from behind and turned with a smile to greet him. She smile froze in place as she turned to see Seto standing before her. To be honest with herself, she'd expected him to come forward like the others, but half thought he wouldn't.

Seto stood before her, silent. He had kept his eyes trained down to the floor as he faced her. When he looked up and saw her brittle smile, he felt pain slash through his body, originating in the area near his heart, working its way to his limbs. His soul felt lacerated and weary.

He worked up a semblance of a smile and bowed low, lower than the others did. "Princess, it—it is good to have you back."

Through her anger, she felt a prick of conscious telling her that he was truly sorry. She was moved by his humble words and demeanor. If she were truly honest with herself, she was no longer angry with him.

She stood before him, stiff and unyielding. She fought a battle between her childish emotions and the woman inside telling her to let the past and its hurts go. In the end, the maturity in her won out. She hesitantly reached out her hand and lightly put it on his shoulder.

"Seto—" she began, haltingly.

She pushed his shoulder back and had him stand his full height. She looked up into his eyes and saw a melee of emotions swarming in the murky depths of his fathomless blue orbs. She remembered him being teased and picked on because of his eyes. She called them royal eyes because the color was that of the princesses from across the sea.

"_Do not worry Seto; they are just jealous because theirs are ugly compared to yours. Besides do you not know that those are royal eyes?...I am sure your mother or an ancestor was of royalty. So who cares what they think!_"

For a brief second, she could not bring herself to say the words she was going to say. Seto noted her slight hesitation and felt a small flame of hope kindle his soul.

She swallowed to wet her throat and licked her lips—plunging forth. "I—I understand that all you wanted to do was make sure I was safe. I realize that you meant good by not telling what was afoot. However—however, I cannot forgive the trust you broke between us."

The world stood still and felt like it'd spun off its axis. Seto felt something inside shatter at her words. Perhaps it was the frail hope he'd held onto like a lifeline all these years that she would forgive him his actions. Whatever it was, it was painful. He grimly consoled himself that at least she didn't entirely find him unforgivable.

She felt Seto retreat from her on a different level and the girl who cherished his friendship and held him in hero worship along with her brother cried out in pain. Nefra put a damper on the rebellious childish emotions, but still felt regret over her words.

Seto bowed again and left her side as a procession of more well-wishers descended upon her, taking up most of her time. However, Seto's withdrawal still bothered her and was on her mind each time she had a spare moment to gather her jumbled thoughts together.

--------

After the festivities finally died down, Atem and Nefra, followed by the Inners, walked down the hall toward the residential wings that forked off from the main corridor. She paused at the intersection. The Inners stopped a decorous distance away from them. To the left were the royal chambers and to the right, the hall led to the guest chambers.

She made a move to go right when Atem laid a staying hand on her arm.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"To my chambers, brother," she answered, somewhat confused.

"Your room is not down there." At her confused look, he continued, "During the celebration, your possessions were moved from the chambers you used today to your old set."

As comprehension dawned, another question arose to replace the previous. Anticipating her question, he answered before she could give voice to it. "I have not been occupying father's chambers; I cannot bring myself to step foot into them let alone use them," he said quietly.

He conducted her to their wing, which also housed the Inners. "You will find that much is the same. It has not been disturbed except to clean it, and, of course, your recent belongings will be there, too."

As they paused outside the door, the Inners quietly bid them goodnight and continued on their own chambers.

--------

Seto walked past and stifled his urge to look back. He walked toward his own chamber between Karim's and Shada's chambers. He entered his chambers and leaned against the door, ignoring the servant who stood waiting to divest him of his garments. To be honest with himself, he was still holding onto the hope that she may completely forgive him yet.

'_Who am I kidding?_' he mocked himself. '_She has changed. I barely recognize her as the girl I once loved so innocently._'

He softly snorted his disgust with himself and walked into his bedchamber, the servant following him. He had his clothes removed and walked into his bathing room to wash the day away. He dismissed the other servants in the room, preferring to tend to himself. He rested his head back against the side of the large hot bath, arching his neck, and closed his eyes. He prayed that after tonight, she would return to herself. '_Please, Ra. I ask nothing for myself, but heal her hurts. Turn her back into the woman she should have returned as._'

--------

Nefra felt a shiver of anticipation and something akin to fear run down her spine, causing goosebumps to rise up on her arms. She stood staring at the gilded door and fought off the past while chafing her arms to warm them from the sudden cold that had her in its grip.

Atem, standing silently by her side, read the emotional by-play on her expressive face. He reached out his left hand for her right hand, causing her to start and meet his steady regard with haunted eyes.

"You will have to face it eventually, sister. Why not now?" he encouraged, giving her a hand a brief squeeze to take some of the bite out of it.

It felt unpleasantly similar to eight years ago and she and Atem, holding her hand, were standing before their father's door—bucking up their courage to enter the chamber of death… She ruthlessly pushed the thought aside, refusing to give in to her weakening defenses, but the thought took root. She drew in an unsteady breath and reached out her left hand to push open the familiar door.

The door swung open easily and silently, revealing the lit foyer. In the right corner was a palm and next to it was a sconce. To the left was another sconce revealing a mosaic depicting the birth of the soul of Osiris above it was the eye of Ra. It was free of all dust, supporting Atem's earlier words. Her insides shook as she continued forth into a den of memories she'd thought she'd exorcised long ago.

She entered her former sitting room. Here and there were various gilded chairs sporting clawed feet and the wings of a bird engraved in their backs. Azure and jade elephants and tigers littered the floor in one corner and in another were toy soldiers made of rose gold and carved ebony horses. One chariot-mounted horse had a figure in the vehicle and was in a race with a crowd of other soldiers acting as the spectators. At the finish line were two special made figures: one a girl with violet eyes and the other was a boy with blue. She closed her eyes on the familiar figurines and felt pain lance through her heart. She turned her face away and tried to control her breathing.

'_Please, stay away. Stay away. Stay away, stay away,_' she chanted over and over in her mind and heart. It became her mantra and she tried to push back the torrent of emotions that nipped at her consciousness. To her right was the door that connected her suite with Atem's. To her left was her bedchamber and beyond that, her bath. She walked into her old bedroom in a daze. She didn't want to enter—to revisit the past—but she felt compelled to. Her throat worked in an effort to contain herself. As she ventured into her old sanctum, Atem sat in one of the chairs within hearing range and stared at the figure riding in the chariot. It was a figure specially made of himself.

'_Please,_' he prayed. '_Please say I took the right course of action._'

In her old bedroom, Nefra was forcefully confronted with the past. Everything was the same. Exactly the same. Her bed was against the wall she stood facing from the entryway. The mattress and plump pillows stuffed with goose down. The silk sheets were white and the cases for the pillows were also white and embroidered. It had four golden posts and thin gauze swept from post to post in graceful hanging arches. A curtain of gauze enclosed the bed on the three sides that were not against the wall. The chaise facing the open balcony was made of a dark rich wood and had white cushions stuffed with goose feathers.

The walls were a sandy-color and the floor beneath her sandaled feet was made of some of the finest marble. On the walls were elegant torches that cast light in every corner. On the wall to her right was another mosaic depicting the continuous rebirth of Osiris' soul. Against the walls left and right, from her position by the doorway, were tables and chests and dressers. To her left was an opening that led to the room that housed her clothes.

All around her were old toys and drawings she's made on faded papyrus. On a corner table were battered golden cups and plates she used to play with and force Atem and Seto to play with her in her little "parties." She picked up one particularly warped goblet and raised it to eye level.

**_Flashback- Nine Years Ago…_**

"_Come _on_, Atem!" cried a high squeaky girlish voice. "_You promised!_" She thumped the plate in front of her and looked up to him from her position sitting cross-legged on the white marble floor. _

_The boy she was addressing was leaning against the wall and scoffed down at her from her across the room._

"_No," was all he said._

"_You said that if I gave you my sugar covered almonds, you would play with me and convince Seto to play, too."_

_Atem looked at her like she was a dumb camel. "Of course I lied."_

_Nefra's eyes widened with hurt, but then narrowed in anger as his deceit sank in. "The pharaoh and his children must live honorably and not go back on their word." When she saw that had no affect, she tried a different tact. "I will tell father!" she threatened, her high-pitched voice ominously low. _

_Atem stuck out his tongue. "Go ahead, dung beetle."_

_She picked up the goblet full of water that she had set out for him and hurled it at his head._

_He dodged it in the nick of time and it hit the wall, sending water spraying in all directions, some drops splattering her from the force of the throw. It fell with a metallic _CLANK!_ to the floor. Atem walked back to the spot he previously occupied and stared at the water running down the wall and then at the bent cup on the floor._

_He turned back to her, incredulous. "What are you trying to do! Take off my head!"_

_She stared at him hard. "Yes!" she screamed and promptly burst into tears. _

_**End flashback…**_

On another table to the left of her massive bed, which she remembered was much too big for her, were her "treasures." Next to a vase holding freshly cut jasmine was the small gold coin that she'd found in the market place near Seba's hut. She'd thought that it was a rare and valuable coin, but as it turned out, when Seto reluctantly informed her, it was a coin that was recent, but was nothing extraordinary. He was apologetic about shattering her illusions, but did her a favor by doing so because Atem went on and on saying that she'd found a famous coin and it was special. It was special alright. It was minted in the reign of her father.

She remembered coming home and asking her father how his face got on the coin when it was where it was supposed to be. He laughed so hard that day as he tried to explain it to her. Her six year old mind couldn't understand the intricacies of making coins and her little face was scrunched in an effort to appear knowledgeable. Her breath caught in her throat as she remembered her father's sparkling eyes that day.

"Oh, Apa," she whispered, unconsciously using the pet name she'd adopted for her father.

Next to the coin was a feather of the falcon that she'd helped take care of and released into the wild. She and Seto were running away from Atem, who was the monster, in the palace garden. She stumbled upon a wounded falcon and went to pick it up. Seto stopped her from touching it and told her to run and find someone to help. Naturally, she ran to her brother and sent him to Seto while she went in search of Shimon. She'd returned with him in tow and they treated the bird. He stayed in her room for a month or so and was released. All she had left from him was a beautiful tail feather.

Next to the tail feather was a small box. She slowly reached out her hand and ran her finger lightly over the embossed golden lid. She picked it up and walked to the foot of the bed. With shaking hands, she opened it and inside lay the smooth red stone that Seto gave her, and below that, some notes written in a childish hand. She took one out and read its contents.

"_Cook is making those funny sweet-things again. They look strange, but taste good. Let us go and take some for our picnic. Nefra._"

She remembered the box now. When she was around eight, she found a box in her mother's old room and asked her father if she could keep it. Of course, he'd allowed her to have it. She dragged Atem and Seto into her room and dramatically swore them to secrecy. She showed them the box and said it was their special box. They could write secret messages and nobody would know. Each day, they would pass it around and they would leave a secret note inside. It didn't matter what was written. She dropped it on the bed and picked up another.

"_At is so mean. He promised to play with me in exchange for my almonds, but he tricked me. I almost hate him. Nefra._" She smiled as she read the little message. "At" was her pet name for Atem. "At," she whispered, it rolled off her tongue with ease.

"_Nefra, I am sorry about not wanting to play with you. Playing 'party' is too much of a girl's game now for Seto and I. Truthfully, Seto does not like to play that, but he does because he is a good friend. Atem._"

"_I forgive you. You are my best friends, and I love you both. Nefra._"

"_I would be lost without you, my friends. Seto._"Another read,"_Seto, you are the best friend I could ever ask for and Nefra, thought you are a girl and you are my sister, you are alright in your own way. Atem._"

"_Atem, can you believe what Nefra did? She took the blame for us today when we went into Akunadin's room and accidentally knocked over an urn. I am sure your father knows the truth and this is her punishment for lying as well as ours because we were not man enough to take the blames ourselves. I heard she was going to go to bed without anything to eat. We must bring her food. Seto._"

As she put the notes back, she noticed a note she'd missed. She separated it from behind the first note. As she began to read it, her world came to a screeching halt.

"_Nefra, we must talk. Your uncle is going to do something that involves you. I think he is going to make you leave the palace. Please meet me in the garden at our tree. Seto._"

Nefra's heart skipped a beat. Her legs wobbled and she reached out a hand to grab a hold of the nearest post. She stood there silently staring at the note that tore her tortured soul in two.

The yellowed papyrus fluttered to the floor as her hand went to her mouth and she felt the uncontrollable urge to laugh. All her memories, the good and most importantly the bad, hit her like a tidal wave and she floundered, drowning, in a whirlpool of violent emotions. A gurgle she couldn't hold back broke free and once let loose, she couldn't stop the following insane series of laughter.

Her first choked laugh brought Atem running into the chamber. '_What in the name of Ra have I done? Everything that has happened to me…could have been prevented._' Her legs and grasp on the post gave way; her laughter turned into racking sobs. He caught her as she crumpled like a rag doll. She bowed her head, her face hidden in her hands, and sobbed. Atem kneeled before her, rubbing her back and kissed the top of her head, making soft crooning noises and murmuring words of love and comfort in her ear. Try as she might, she could not stop the torrent of tears.

The dam she'd erected to put a stopper on her emotions finally broke and it was all she could do to ride the maelstrom of emotions. She cried for everything she'd lost. The innocence of the girl who once lived here was left behind, but the girl returned a woman jaded and bitter from her experiences. In many ways, she was broken and so beyond the brink, she wasn't sure the girl she once was could be returned.

Atem, knowing she was on the path to healing, continued to hold her and gently rocked her in the middle of the torch lit room. He'd been in her room long ago and looked in the box. The truth hit him hard. He didn't know about the note and when he asked Seto about it, Seto just hung his head and said, "_Now you know_." It tore him apart to witness Nefra in this state. He wasn't used to her crying, despite the fact that they'd been apart for so long. It ate at his heart as her slender frame shook with another series of sobs. She flung her arms around his waist and leaned her head against his shoulder. She stared at the wall behind him as tears poured from her emotion-darkened eyes.

--------

Seto, hearing her insane laughter, echoed and amplified, ran from his own bed and came to a halt at her door. Gathered outside the door were the others in various stages of preparation for the night's slumber. They all had grave expressions on their faces as they heard her cry. When her cries finally stopped, they looked at one another with worry and then turned to face the door. Seto burned with the desire to charge into the room and see if she was ok.

'_I cannot forgive the trust you broke between us._'

It stopped him from pushing the door open. Instead, he stood there with the others and waited.

--------

When she had finally cried until she could cry no more, her eyes were red and swollen and her throat hurt. All she did was stare at the wall. Atem eased back and looked into her eyes. The blankness he saw there chilled him down to the core of his being.

"Nefra," he spoke softly, fearing that to talk too loudly would break something delicate inside her. When she did not respond, he shook her lightly. "Nefra," this time a bit louder. Her behavior was really beginning to scare him. He was in a frenzy to get her to respond to his voice rather than stare out into space with that lost look on her face, like she had been drained of her life force—an empty husk, too fragile to touch for fear of shattering into a million pieces. "NEFRA!" After a final desperate attempt of shaking her hard enough to rattle her teeth, he brought back his right hand and slapped her hard across the left side of her face.

--------

The slap could be heard outside and a nerve in Seto's jaw ticked. Isis winced at the thought of the slap. Mahado, Shimon, and Akunadin exchanged worried glances. Shada had a feeling that her soul was locked in a battle for its survival and something she'd learned caused her grip on sanity to slip. Karim was pensive and Seto maintained his stony silence.

--------

Slowly, her eyes focused on his face, and she blinked away the tears that reflexively formed in reaction to the stinging in her face. Her eyes returned to its natural color and she put a hand to her throbbing cheek.

"That hurt," was all she said, causing him to laugh ridiculously with relief.

--------

The ones standing silent vigil outside heard his laugh and let out the breath they were holding. Seto visibly relaxed, but was still tense. Shimon walked up to him and patted him on the back. Seto looked down at the wizened old man. Shimon looked up at him, eyes shining bright with compassion. Shimon was more than aware that young Seto had held a flame for Nefra when she was younger. He was too young to understand his own feelings, but Shimon knew. The boy's obvious affections often caused him many a worry and he constantly wondered if he would have to step in and nip it at the bud for his sake. She had a duty to fulfill and not even Seto, fond of him though he was, was allowed to disrupt it.

--------

Nefra looked at him like he'd lost his mind, causing him to laugh silently to himself. Atem held her face between her hands and looked closely into her eyes. He breathed a sigh of relief that all traces of her previous vacant look vanished from her clear violet orbs.

"You gave me quite a fright, little bird," he said with a crooked smile.

--------

Atem left her lying on the bed and made his weary way out of the chamber. He paused at the door, knowing the crowd outside to be his most trusted friends and confidantes; he was unsure of what to tell them. With a sigh, he opened the heavy door and stepped out into the hall. Everyone made a semi-circle around him—waiting to hear his tidings.

Atem cleared his throat—still tight with emotion. "She is sleeping deeply at the moment. In order to calm her, I used the magic of my puzzle," he said, not telling them how painful it was to him to use the magic granted to him by his puzzle.

He paused and looked at Seto. "She knows everything." The stillness of Seto's face gave away his misapprehensions. "She found the box."

'Box?' flitted through everyone's minds almost in unison. Apparently Seto understood because he nodded his head—a question in his eyes.

Atem ruefully shook his head. "I cannot be sure. She has had quite a shock, and as I am sure you have heard, a break down. It is too soon to tell at the moment how this will affect her. It is my opinion it will be for the better."

Seto understood his underlying meaning. While she suffered an emotional break down, she learned the truth. Chances were she would realize that he did not betray her trust and hopefully breathe new life into her.

Atem turned to Isis. "I have a favor to ask of you, Isis. Could you please prepare the princess for bed?"

Isis agreed to his request—understanding it would be unseemly for him to disrobe his sister. Atem stood aside to let her enter Nefra's sanctum. He detained her long enough to tell her to let him know when she had her abed because he wanted to sit up with her.

When the door closed behind her, Atem turned to face the others, tired, but—despite his worry—happy to have her home at last. He drew Shimon aside and spoke softly with him. Several nods from the old man showed his agreement with whatever was said.

"What now?" asked Karim.

"We wait," answered Mahado.

Karim, whose strong point was not in waiting, protested, "What will waiting do?"

"Waiting is all we can do," rejoined Seto, who'd been silent up until that moment.

"I do not like this," worried Karim.

"How do you think my nephew feels about this? Do you think he is enjoying this like it is a pleasant stroll down the Nile! _Look_ at him!" Akundain hissed. "While he is happy to have his sister back, and do not doubt for a moment he is not, his face betrays little else. However, we know him better than that; he is sick with worry."

All four of them covertly watched the pharaoh and knew the old priest was right. Atem's anxiety showed in his eyes and the stiff way he held himself—like he was holding himself in check to keep from bolting back to his sister's side.

--------

Shimon peered closely into his best friend's child's eyes. "You need rest, lad. It will not help her if wear yourself out. Do not worry; she is a strong woman—always has been, even when she was just a mere slip of a girl and well you know it. I will do as you have asked and unearth her-" he broke off.

At that moment, Isis opened the door and stepped into the hall—silently closing it behind her. She kept her face composed and waited for Atem to rejoin the group all the while fending off questions from all sides.

"My Pharaoh, if I may have a word with you?" she hesitantly asked.

"Of course," he conceded, leading her a ways down the corridor.

"Yes, Isis?" he gently prodded.

"I do not know how to tell you with without causing alarm, but when tending to the princess, I noticed some rather unsettling markings on her body," she haltingly began.

"What kind of markings? Please, Isis, speak quickly," he brusquely ordered—confusion and fear rampant in his heart.

"She has two scars. Here and here," she explained, making a band with her hand around one wrist and then the other. "She has another thin scar at the back of her neck, near her hairline. I noticed it when I moved her hair to put a shift on her. Another circles her right thigh," she ended, lapsing into silence.

Atem took it all in; his eyes sparkling jewels set in his pinched face. "Show me," he quietly ordered. Isis, taking no offense, walked with him back to the door.

The others, clustered around the door, cast uneasy glances amongst themselves as they felt the abrupt change in the air—that of a vicious thunderstorm. Atem walked past them and entered the chamber, followed by Isis. It was not their imagination that told them their pharaoh was violently angry.

--------

Inside Nefra's bedchamber, Atem stood over her. The sheets were thrown back, and her body scars were visible due to the torch he held in his hand.

Isis had shown him all the scars, but the ones that bothered him the most were the scars around her wrists. A set of scars, approximately the width of her little finger, circled her wrists.

'She fought. Whatever is was, she fought against it.' As he lightly traced the unsettling marrings, he noticed they were smooth and flat.

He kneeled by her bedside after having covered her with the bedsheet. He took her wrists, one by one, to his mouth and lightly kissed them, as though he were trying to erase them, and gently returned them back to her sides.

Isis felt it to be prudent to withdraw, leaving him to his gentle ministrations. When she rejoined the others, she kept her discoveries to herself, telling them that Atem would be staying with the princess.

"Perhaps it would be best to return to our mutual chambers," she quietly suggested.

Mahado took up the vein, saying, "It is late, my friends. It has been a long day for everyone, and we all need to seek the refreshment of slumber."

Shimon, returning from his room carrying a gold box in his hands, chimed in, "I doubt we may get much sleep, but it will be for the best that we leave them." Gesturing to the box with its mysterious contents, he continued, "I will leave this in the pharaoh's chambers then return to my own."

Everyone took it as their cue to depart. The little gathering dispersed, if not somewhat reluctantly.

Shimon entered the pharaoh's chamber, walked through to the sitting room he shared with Nefra, and set the gold box on little table near the door. As he quietly made his way back, he paused to look at the door that led to the princess' bedchamber. He had an unshakable faith in the lad; he was sure of his success.

--------

Ëlen: "Ok, this is it for Chapter 3. I hope you all liked it and please review this chapter for me. I'd greatly appreciate it."

Seto: "That was an ok attempt. Next time, do a better job."

Ëlen: (Glares and was about to say something when the doorbell rings) "You were just saved by the bell, _darling_."

Seto: (Rolls eyes) "Oh _puh-lease_."

Ëlen: (Returns with a large box on a dolly) "It's here! It's FINALY here! Oh joyous rapture! Oh happy day!"

Seto: (Looks at box) "What is it?"

Ëlen: (Grinning like the cat that ate the canary) "Oh you'll find out…."


	5. Chapter 4: Seto's Memories

**Author's note!**

I'd like to remind my readers of the following bits found in my dialogue.

means it is a psychic or telepathic conversation

" means it is regular dialogue out loud between two people or one-sided… O.o'

' means it is a thought involving ONLY the person who thought it.

Thanks for reading this; this will be the only time I post this in my fanfic. Now please continue reading the story!

-Ëlen-

**Forbidden: Chapter Four- Seto's Memories and a New Nefra**

**By: Ëlen Lístë Aldá**

Seto sat on the edge of his bed and rested his elbows on his spread legs. His hands cradled his bent head; his long locks fell forward with the angle of his head in a glossy curtain. He raggedly exhaled and ran his hands over his tired face.

'This is the second night and still no change.'

Restless and sick of heart, he stood up and walked to a rich dark brown cabinet at the far side of the room, and yanked open the doors. Towards the back of the dark interior was a polished wood box. He brought it out into the torchlight and sat in a chair—placing it on the table before him.

He silently sat, staring at it. He was unsure of how much time had gone by since he first unearthed it. Finally, he worked up the nerve to open it. Inside nestled in a bed of ivory silk, was a thin gold chain with a pendant.

The pendant was a pale pink shell. He reverently reached in and lightly ran the tip of his right index finger over its smooth surface. Gingerly, he placed it in the palm of his left hand. He angled his hand so the light caught the curve of the shell and reflected it. Ghosts of the past swamped him and acted itself out in the room as he sat and watched the phantasmal byplay in total numbness

"_Come look at this!" Nefra shouted, beckoning both Seto and Atem from their positions on the ground under their special tree. _

_Seto looked at Atem, a question in his clear blue eyes. Atem shrugged and rolled his eyes. "Who knows? The sun must have roasted her brain while she was grubbing in the ground."_

_However, the excitement in her voice compelled them to her excavation site. She was on her haunches; her little bottom inches above the ground. The clothes were as grubby as her hands. It was hardly surprising in Seto's estimation considering she was digging in the moist earth with her bare hands. _

_Her hair, damp with perspiration, caught the wind and was ruffled back as though the hand of one of the gods was trying to cool her—putting Seto to mind of an ethereal girl at one with the gods._

_Both boys peered over her shoulders to catch a glimpse at what she'd unearthed—Seto to her left and Atem to her right—causing her to admonish them. "You are never to look over a lady's shoulder, you barbarians. Surely you know that," she scolded, effectively banishing the illusion with her tart voice._

_She looked up, eyes shining pools of indigo and an excited smile. _

_Atem, hardly finding her to be a lady at all much less at that moment, decided to deliberately taunt her. "Show me a lady and I will refrain from looking over her shoulder."_

_This caused Nefra to switch her bright gaze from Seto to Atem, her smile now a moue of annoyance. She stuck out her tongue at her brother—hardly lady-like, but she could have cared less. She obviously deemed him unworthy and focused back on Seto, but they all knew she'd already forgiven him. _

"_Look," she reverently said, pointing to the hole she'd made. Nestled in the hole, preserved in perfect condition was a delicate pink shell._

_They dutifully admired it. It was a whole shell—both halves intact and together. When Seto reached forward to touch it, he was startled to find it warm. Nefra, caught up in the magic of the moment, whispered, "I wonder how it came to be here."_

_Atem, not wanting to admit the finding of the shell was fascinating, said, "It is just a shell. Who cares how it came to be in the garden?"_

_Nefra bit her lower lip—disappointed with her brother's behavior and embarrassed to have opened herself to ridicule. Deep down she knew he didn't mean it, but she refused to allow her hurt to surface._

_Seto read her emotions correctly and sought a way to soothe her. He cleared his throat, and after having mentally pulled up a recollection to relate, he put his right hand on her left shoulder. _

"_If I remember correctly, the Nile used to be much wider than its current state. An old priest told me the private harbor used by the pharaohs once went as far back as the present garden. After the river began to recede, the palace was added on to and this garden was planted. In fact, the Nile is still receding. So, it is my belief that your shell is a remnant of the old harbor and is very old itself."_

_Nefra's eyes shone up into his, warming his heart. "Really?" she breathed._

_Seto nodded in affirmation._

"_If he says so, then it must be so," interjected Atem. He felt like a heel for having said what he did. He was nearly ten years old and well on his way to becoming a man. Men did not go silly over shells. "Besides," he told himself. He wanted to show Seto the man he was becoming—desiring to impress and emulate the older boy who was his only example other than Mahado. He had a feeling Seto already respected him and would continue to do so if he stayed true to himself._

_He dug the toe of his sandal into the dirt. "It really is a nice shell. I did not mean to make you think otherwise," he murmured remorsely, not knowing he proved himself right and that Seto admired him for his ability to humble himself and stay true to what made Atem the person he was. _

_Days later, Nefra called the three of them together in her room. She was smiling and had her hands behind her back. She was bursting with something and her wide smile was infectious—causing them to return her smile._

"_I am curious, Nefra." Seto smiled quizzically. "Why did you call us here?"_

_Atem nodded in agreement. "Yes, Sister. Why have you summoned us together? You and I have a session with Gahnim soon for combat lessons and swordplay. And Seto is expected in the library for is lessons with Uncle."_

"_Do not worry, we shall not be late; you have my word. I have something for both of you." With that, she held out her hands in front of her—revealing two necklaces. Suspended from delicate gold chains were dainty shells identical to the one she'd found in the garden a few days ago._

"_I continued to dig after you left," she said, addressing both of them. "And I came across two more. See," she enthused, pointing to the one encircling her own slender neck. It was vibrant in contrast to the starkness of her thin gown. _

_Gingerly, the two boys accepted the treasures bestowed upon them. Atem and Nefra left together for their session with the pharaoh's head general. Seto slowly walked the hallways toward the library for his own lessons. Under his tunic was the necklace the princess gave him and he guarded its existence with great care—especially from the penetrating gaze of Master Akunadin. Never did he take it off until years after she was ripped from his life and he finally came to partial terms with her loss._

The images faded and all that remained were the haunting strains of her childish laughter and her anguished cries caused his hair to stand on end and a shiver went down his spine. Seto shook himself and wondered how it was that he saw the past and felt those emotions again with such clarity.

'_What magic is this? Where does it come from?_' he wondered. "Does it perhaps stem from this?" he asked himself aloud as he looked down at the fragile necklace in stark contrast with the dark tan of his hand. He could still feel the warmth the shell emitted like the subtle glow of a miniature sun drop. Or the gentle caress of the sun-warmed wind on a chilly morning that penetrated the body and spread from within to leave behind a feeling of calm and surety in the rightness of things.

He wondered why it was still warm to the touch. '_Perhaps,_' he mused. '_We were meant to have them and it is Nefra's love at the time she gave them to us that keeps the warm. As if a part of consciousness is within the confines of this small miracle of nature._'

Seto grasped the chain and ducked his glossy head to restore the talisman to its rightful place—over his heart.

For many hours, he sat in the chair and stared out at the gloom of his darkened room until he finally slipped into a fitful sleep. He dreamed of being ripped from the only existence he'd ever known. His dream was fraught with terror, numbing despair, intense rage that scorched his soul, and the iron-clad will to survive drawn from an inner core that was so bone-chillingly cold it burned.

--------

_CLANG! CLING! CLANG!_

Seto's eyes flickered open and he stared at the table top as his head continued to rest on his arm. He groggily shook his head, wincing when his neck muscles screamed in protest to such treatment. He rose from his chair with the grace of a cat—massaging his neck with his right hand—and made his way to the bronze basin to wash his face—trying to shake some life back into his left arm.

After having performed his morning absolutions, he thoughtfully dressed in the solitude of his chamber. As he pulled the back of his long hair out from the inside of his shirt, he remembered the series of strange dreams he'd experienced. They were so vivid and emotional that they etched a permanent mark on his conscious. His thoughts turned to Nefra. '_Could it be…?_'

His worry renewed, he sat at the foot of his barely slept in bed and put his sandals on. He was tying the leather tongs around his strong calf when he heard a loud noise.

_CLANG!_

Recognizing it as the sound of a sword meeting sword, he mentally shrugged figuring it to be a training session for the guards. He assumed he was awake before the others as he walked down the corridor towards the royal chambers. He noticed there were no guards posted outside the princess's chambers.

He heard another series of _CLANGS!_ followed by musical laughter. Seto wrinkled his brow. '_Why in the name of Ra is a woman at the training grounds at his hour?_' he pondered, completely mystified.

A feeling akin to fingers trailing down his spine gave him the impression it had to do with a certain king and his sister. Thus explaining why no guards were on post.

He made his way to the training square near the stables. As he approached, he heard several grunts and a peal of feminine laughter. He saw a small crowd leaning against the low-rise fence. Gathered were Mahado, Shimon, Shada, the urchin boy, Gahnim, and the princess's bodyguard. Seto returned the polite morning felicitations and joined the little gathering.

In the center of the large arena were the pharaoh and his sister. Atem wore a deep blue sarong with a turquoise and gold belt—dangling from his left an empty scabbard. He was grinning at Nefra; his eyes openly taunting her. Her eyes returned the challenge that was written so clearly on her brother's face. She wore a one-shouldered top—her brooch in its customary place. The top was a midriff that bared her sun-kissed skin and was once a crisp white. It was damp and dirty in places. Seto averted his eyes from the sight of it clinging like a second skin to her breasts. Her skirt was of an unusual design and fell much in the design of her top but in the opposite direction. Her right leg all the way up to her lower thigh was bare; the other side of her skirt reached mid-calf. Around both of her shapely calves were the golden ties of her sandals. She allowed a little smile that was a tell-tale sign of her enjoyment and determination to curve the corners of her mouth.

Seto's tongue felt like it was bonded with the roof of his mouth, and he swallowed with difficulty.

"One moment," she told him—holding out a hand to forestall him. Her right hand—the one holding the gleaming sword—twirled its weapon and pointed the tip down.

"My arm and shoulder are beginning to hurt. I am not used to a sword," she explained in response to his crooked brow. A smile spread across his face and blossomed into a full out grin as the thrust the sword into the packed earth.

"Not for a moment do I believe she has given up," Seto murmured to no one in particular.

"I do believe you are right, son," Shimon agreed. "She is more like her old self. And if I am not mistaken, I have seen that look on her face before; it reminds me of when she was a wisp of a girl and full of mischief. That look she inherited from her father, gods rest his soul."

"He is too sure of himself," observed Gahnim. "He is under the impression victory is imminent."

"I am sad to say it is because she is a woman that he feels that way," Mahado pointed out.

Shada remained silent—preferring to keep his observations to himself as he closely watched the kingdom's future.

Ryske, having been silent throughout the entire exchange, startled them all when he finally spoke—causing them to remember his presence. "The young pharaoh has great skill. My compliments, my lord general."

Gahnim nodded in acknowledgement—taking silent pride in the young man he helped mold. Mahado, having been the same mentioned king's guardian and mentor, picked up where Ryske left off. "But?"

"But he underestimates his opponent. In this case, a grave mistake. If it were a contest for survival and were he anyone else, he would have been a dead man long ago."

Six pairs of startled eyes swung back to the arena. They watched as she said, "I feel more comfortable using my own weapon."

As fast as lightning, she pulled her sais from their sheaths strapped to her thighs. They watched as she deftly twirled them into a position of attack rather than defense.

"I have seen her wield one of those before. She is very skilled with them. It was almost like an extension of herself, the ease with which she held it," Seto retold in a subdued voice.

"Yes, she is more than skilled with that particular weapon. It is true the advantage should go to the one with the sword, but it is the opposite in this case. Do not get me wrong, the pharaoh is an excellent swordsman, but he deemed her an easy victory from the onset. She used that sword to gauge his skill and now that she is sure of herself, she _will_ defeat him," he said with quiet pride.

Atem looked at the weapons in her finely-boned hands. '_What are those!'_ To cover up his confusion, he taunted, "Do you honestly believe you can beat me with those?"

She smirked. "No, Brother." She took up her stance—legs parted, her left leg forward and straight while her back leg was bent at the knee in a right angle. Her weapons at the ready. Devilment dance in her violet orbs. "I _know_ I will be the victor."

Her quiet assurance and the aura of one who knows they are about to win has oozing from her in great waves flustered him.

He forgot all his teachings and stroke out in a blaze of arrogance that caused Gahnim to wince. '_No one will beat me, let alone my sister!_'

Nefra, having correctly read his thoughts, despaired. '_Oh, Atem. You still have not learned._' His cockiness sparked her anger and she vowed to teach him a lesson.

The spectators watched as she deftly blocked his attacks with one of her weapons while the other was curled under to rest flush against the softness of the inside of her arm.

As Seto and the other watched the dance their lethal dance, he saw the early morning sun catch something golden on her forehead. Not having seen it before, he wondered what it was.

"Here it comes," warned Ryske, breaking Seto from his thoughts.

She threw down the one she used to fend off his bone-jarring blows and it landed, point first, into the earth. She raised her right hand to use her other weapon to block the attack she saw coming by reading his change in footing.

She braced her wrist with her left hand to hold the downward slash at bay as she curved her arm up so that his bald was caught between the prongs. Realization dawned on his face as he saw the end approach. Deftly, at least in his eyes as well as the others, she used both hands to twist the sword out of his grasp and into the air. She took a step back and caught it. She executed a quick turn over her left shoulder on the ball of her feet and swung.

Everyone's breath was held as she stopped the edge of the sword an inch from his neck. Her sai was aimed with deadly accuracy at his heart.

Everything stood still as the two fighters stared at one another. Atem was white under his tan; his pupils were slightly dilated. Nefra's chest was heaving as her eyes burned with a fierce intensity into his. The wind ruffled their clothing and played with their hair.

Her point was made.

When she twirled the sword away from him and handed the pummel to him, there was a collective sigh as the air whooshed from frozen lungs.

She covertly flexed her right hand and couldn't contain her wince. '_I hurt her!_' he started, remorse setting in.

Atem was ashamed of his lack of discipline and his need to defeat the one woman he loved more than life itself. "I am sorry, Sister. Please accept my apologies."

Nefra turned away with a jerky nod. "All is forgiven," she briskly mumbled, meaning it. Her whole arm was beginning to throb painfully and she just wanted to return to her chambers so that she can soak in a hot bath to ease the pain.

Atem stopped her from turning away completely by swinging her around to face him by her right arm in a tight circle. She bit down the moan of pain that almost escaped from her tightly compressed lips. Instead, her breath hissed out between her clenched teeth and a shudder wracked her slight frame. He instantly regretted the action.

He framed her face with both hands, and, after briefly looking at the diadem on her forehead, he looked deeply in her pain darkened eyes. He read in her steady gaze her forgiveness and swallowed thickly. He kissed her hard on the mouth and rested his forehead against hers—their two crowns touching.

"I do not deserve your forgiveness."

She smiled sadly into his eyes. "I would forgive you anything. It is you who must forgive yourself."

Atem knew it to be true. If he starved her, beat her, even killed her with his own two hands, she would forgive him. The knowledge that he had such power over her—to hurt her greatly yet receive her forgiveness—humbled him.

"I swear to you, it will never happen again. I _swear it!_" he quietly vowed.

Next to Shada, Ryske gave voice to his approval. "He is a good man, the pharaoh." Mahado smiled with a pride a priest shouldn't feel but did and bowed his head to Ryske for his kind words and approval.

As the two siblings walked back, arm in arm—Atem conscious of her injured arm—and smiles on their faces, Shada reached out to Mahado's mind.

It would seem the future of the kingdom is a bright one.

Yes, it would seem so. agreed Mahado.

What do you think is the best course of action? Shada asked even though he knew his priest's answer.

Time. They must have time…

Shada's pale eyes met Mahado's velvet brown eyes. An unspoken agreement had been reached and both of knew they would hold a council with the old man, Shimon.

"Well done, child," praised Shimon. "I had no idea you were so skilled. But how did you come by that I wonder?" Shimon asked, having no clue about what he'd accidentally blundered into.

Having everyone's attention on her, including Ryske's, she summoned up a smile that failed to reach her eyes. "Perhaps, someday, I will sit with you and regal you with my adventures," she evasively promised.

"He-heh. I am sure you had a grand time exploring the world. Maybe even a fight or two with bandits," the kind man surmised.

"Of course," she laughed. If it was brittle, she prayed they wouldn't notice. "I should tell you about the time I was a slave. Can you imagine? A princess a slave!" she laughed. "Really old man, surely you do not believe my life has been that eventful. Now if you will excuse me, I am in need of bathing for I stink like a man," she said not unkindly.

With that, she walked away as fast as she could without being unseemly. Trailing her, about twenty paces away, was Ryske—her ever faithful bodyguard.

"Oh dear. Have I inadvertently said something wrong?" Shimon worried, his kind face puckered with distress.

Atem gently clapped him on the shoulder. "Do not worry yourself, my friend. I am sure it was nothing you said."

Seto, however, was not so sure about that—the memories and emotions of his nightmare hit him anew.

Atem—sure that he'd reassured the old man who was like a grandfather to him—excused himself as well. As he walked back to his chambers, he remembered the look on Seto's face; he was positive the man did not believe that there was nothing wrong with Nefra. '_Never could pull anything on him. He always was astute. In this case, too astute…_'

**Last Night…**

As she laid in his arms on her bed, she felt soft and warm. The firm control she kept on her emotions slipped to reveal features that were almost child-like. Her face had a sweetness to it that him curse the hardships she had to endure over the last eight years. His last conscious thought before slipping off to slumber was what he would do to the people who did that to her.

He woke up some hours later. From the darkness of the chamber, it was still early morning and it would be some time before the sun should rise. Atem leaned his weight on his right shoulder and turned to look down at her still face. He brushed some of her hair away from her eyes and wished they would open. He lightly touched the diadem on her forehead. He wanted to look into those clear jewels and see for himself that she was alright.

Almost as if she heard his heart felt wish, her eyelids flickered. He held his breath—afraid to breathe for fear it was a trick of the eye.

Again her lashes fluttered. He quickly sat up and reached for her left hand with his right. He cupped the right side of her face with his left hand. "You can do it, Nefra. I know you can do it!" he whispered in encouragement.

Almost like magic, or perhaps through sheer force of will—either hers or his—her eyes opened and in the light provided by the torches, her eyes focused on his.

"At," she croaked. She licked her lips and her throat felt like dry parchment.

Tears gathered in his eyes and he fought to not let them fall; she was the most beautiful thing in his world. A grin spread across his face and love poured out of him in great waves—bathing her in its warmth. He lifted her slightly so that she could drink some water and held her in his arms.

"You gave us all quite a fright, little bird," he gently admonished her—his thumb caressing her soft cheek.

"I—I understand everything. The things I said…I was so…wrong." He eyes filled with tears as she thought about the hate she had carried with her over the years—all she had endured.

"Don't," he roughly ordered, drawing her gaze back to his. "It is all in the past. Do not turn back. Rather, go forward else you will fall victim to despair again and again."

Realizing the truth behind his words, she sat up with his help. "When did you become so wise, Brother?" she playfully teased.

Shrugging his shoulders, he said in the same light tone, "One has to grow up eventually."

She grew pensive. "I was lost in the darkness of my mind. I could not get out and I fought against it. Then as I began to accept the darkness I saw a light ahead of me and unthinkingly ran toward it. The light was really flames that I had to forge through in order to reach the hand held out to me. A baptism in flames…"

Atem, sensing her need for answers, explained what happened while she was unconscious. He told her about the diadem she now wore and was part of her being.

"So this is it…" she asked of no one in particular. She reached up and grazed the centerpiece with her forefinger. "My future. My legacy…"

After a tense silence, she finally spoke.

"I—I know there is much about myself that is a mystery and you have many questions that need answering," she hesitantly began. "I am afraid you will find my life undesirable in many ways. It is my fear that it will give you a disgust of me."

When he made to speak, she hurried on, not giving him a chance to give voice to his thoughts. "Do not speak until I have told you my story…please."

--------

When she finished the long tale, dawn had not yet risen. It was a shock to his whole being. The day she was taken, she was sent up river to stay with a family. Her stay, while not unpleasant, was short—cut so by thieves who murdered all of the family except for the eldest son. They were spared so that they could be sold into illegal slavery. They were sold and the bonds that held her were the ones that left the scars around her wrists. They were both bought by the same man and stayed there for two years. When the man noticed Nefra was maturing, he tried to force himself on her.

The thought of a man soiling her filled him with an ice cold fury that was mirrored in the frosty amethyst of his eyes as he looked at her.

She tried to escape once, but was caught around her thigh with a whip. Together, she and Ryske conspired to get away from the hell they were put to suffer everyday. The man was going to press himself on her that night, ruining their plans. Before he could commit the act, she stabbed him—killing him.

The two of them took what they could and ran off into the cold night with precious little. They stole and plead to survive. Then Nefra came up with the idea to dance for food and money while Ryske played a wooden flute he had carved. They did that for years and while they tried to live, they had to fight off—even kill—those who would try to rob them or kill them. Not long after the worse years, she became popular and traveled the Mediterranean. All of this leading her to where she was now.

The thought of her living like that tore him apart. '_Never again,_' he vowed. '_Never will she exist like that. I will _die _before I allow it!_'

She remained silent throughout the whole time he thought about her words with a sinking heart. '_He hates me…_"

Reading her thoughts on her now expressive face, Atem reached out and pulled her against him. Her arms instinctively wrapped around her his neck as he drew her close. The hug was an outpouring of his love and acceptance. His easy acceptance caused her eyes to fill and she silently wept.

Inside, he felt his heart bleed. '_She truly thought I would allow her past to color the way I look at her…_'

The twins were so finely attuned with one another that Nefra felt his hurt. "I—forgive me, Brother."

Atem gently pushed her back so he could look her in the face. "You thought I would allow that to change how I felt about you—my own sister," he simply stated. "Nefra, what kind of a man did you take me for? I would be a petty, poor excuse of a man—no human being—if I judged you."

Shame washed over her. She was afraid of being judged, yet she herself judged unfairly.

Gently he knocked her on the crown of her head. "Now, no more. Agreed?"

Smiling, she nodded in affirmation. "Agreed."

"Today is a new day—a new beginning. What would you like to do to commemorate this new start?"

Her smile became positively gleeful. "Have you been practicing with Gahnim all this time?"

--------

He cringed inside as he thought about his treatment of her during their mock battle. '_I was an ass._'

He entered his chambers, after having completed his own bath, and paced for a few minutes. Feeling that he'd given her enough time to make herself decent, he opened the door connecting the two separate chambers.

He entered Nefra's sitting room and found Ryske lounging against the wall. It only took him a few brief moments to realize it was the same spot where he stood when Nefra threw the goblet at his head.

Ryske straightened up and executed a smart bow. Atem nodded in acknowledgement.

"Please, no need to stand on ceremony. A friend of my sister's is a friend of mine."

Ryske hesitated, as though unsure of what to do. Not wanting to offend the pharaoh, he nodded in acceptance. "Very well, my pharaoh."

At Atem's rueful smile, Ryske answered with one of his own. "I am sorry, but I cannot be entirely informal. Someone of my caste does not address the pharaoh any other way."

Atem, having already realized Ryske would not be comfortable addressing him by his given name, let it slide.

Ryske, testing the new waters he was in, asked, "I assume you have come here for a reason?"

Atem smiled, "Afraid so. I came to check on my sister. I—used more force than necessary and her wrist was inured. Has she told you how she fares?"

It was Ryske's turn to smile wryly. "Unfortunately, no. She tends to keep to herself—against my better judgment. And do not worry about excessive force. She would have been offended if you treated her as she should be. She will have to realize it is not a princess' place to be a warrior."

"Heh, good luck doing that. Even as a thin nothing of a girl, she was like that. She hated being treated as a girl."

Atem seated himself and related the story of Nefra wanting to Atem's warrior rather than his queen and how their father set him straight.

Ryske laughed and he told Atem about the time Nefra tried tagging along with him and his brothers when they went to their watering hole. They tried to leave her behind, and she rebelled. She snuck behind them and caught them swimming in the buff. She pointed at their genitalia and shrieked. The boys hastily dived back into the water and shouted at her.

Atem laughed until tears rolled down his cheeks. "That I have no trouble believing."

He sobered a bit. "I guess it is up to me to get the information I seek out of her," he sighed as he stood up.

Ryske quirked a brow. "You will enter her chamber?"

Atem shrugged. "It is not as though she has anything I have not seen. Besides, she is my sister—I have seen her unclothed before. And I feel that she has had sufficient time to make herself decent."

Ryske was willing to bet good money that his new friend was in for a shock. With a wide grin that carved his handsome face nearly in two, he dropped himself into the chair Atem had vacated and after reaching out to grab an apricot, he rested his leather-clad feet on the table. He whipped out his favorite dagger and peeled the sweet fruit. He smiled wolfishly as he brought a piece of the succulent fruit to his mouth by the tip of the curved blade.

--------

Ok, I think that'll do it for this chapter. I felt a few things concerning our intrepid princess should be out in the open…kinda. To date, only Atem and, of course, Ryske know anything about her past.

I think I should clarify that Ryske always knew _who_ she was. The men who took her away had a sealed scroll with them that was to be given to the family who took her into their cozy abode—they HAD to be extremely trustworthy.

I will use this moment to provide and explain a little bit of Ryske's background.

Ryske's mother came from across the Caribbean Sea—Greece. She had pale skin, flaxen hair and emerald-green eyes. She was taken from her own home by pirates to be sold into slavery in Egypt because she would fetch a fair amount of coin. Ryske's father fell in love with her and bought her with all the money he had. She eventually fell in love with him and they had several children. Ryske inherited his father's dark looks—dark skin, long, straight black hair. Ryske inherited his mother's beautiful eyes and that marked him as a target for the men who destroyed his world. As you already know, Nefra came to live with them and they spent two happy years together.

Unfortunately, the family was killed—except Ryske. Nefra and Ryske were taken away and sold into slavery. You, the reader, will find out why in the next chapter.

--------

Ëlen: "Well, there you have it! That was quite a chapter to write out. I was half afraid it wouldn't jump outta my head and into a complete chapter! I hope you liked it. You can be sure I'm working on the next chapter. God! I love semester break! It's been….fun…" (Looks next to her at sees Seto gazing adoringly at her)

Seto: "I love you, Ëlen."

Ëlen: (Pats his cheek I know, my love. Sees readers staring at the box she'd received. "Brainwashing Helmet") "Oops!" (Kicks it under a table with an expression of supreme innocence on her face.) "Well, how else did you expect him to say it?" : p (Leans back and lays her head in Seto's lap.) "You may proceed."

Seto: (Peels a grape and holds it to Ëlen's mouth.)

Ëlen: (Grins mischievously and, with a wink, eats the grape)

Stay tuned for my next chapter in Forbidden—Acts of Revenge!


	6. Chapter 5: Acts of Revenge

**Forbidden: Chapter Five- Acts of Revenge **

**By: Ëlen Lístë Aldá**

Atem walked through Nefra's bedchamber and straight to her bath. At first, he couldn't see her in the swirling mists of steam. He heard a trickle of water and cautiously changed the direction of his steps. As he drew closer, he heard soft murmuring and saw several shadowy forms in the water shift and raw away from the figure of a woman with her back toward him.

The women waded out of the water and climbed the massive steps up and out of the immense bath. They froze when they saw Atem and remembered that their skirts were tied above their waists to prevent them from being soaked. In the blink of an eye, they untied the knots and their skirts fell back into their customary places. One girl giggled only to yelp when she received a sever pinch on her arm to silence her.

Atem, having looked away when they first emerged from the water, felt a blush surface at the woman's giggle. When they left, he turned his gaze back to the woman who had her back facing him as she washed her neck with a cloth. Her hair was pinned up and a few short strands hung down to caress her smooth back.

"Could you please pour some water down my back—it is cold," she asked, startling him from his uneasy discovery.

With a scowl, he picked up a medium-sized vase filled with cold water meant to cool down the bath should it become too hot and hurled its contents at the unsuspecting figure in the water.

When the water doused her, she emitted a shrill shriek and spun around—sending violent waves of water to angrily slap the sides of the bath. Her eyes were blazing with such intensity that they fairly caused the air to crackle with electricity.

"What was the meaning for that indignity!" she ground out, just barely keeping her temper in check to prevent herself from raising her voice to an unladylike level. She looked like a drowned bird of prey with her hair plastered against her head the way it was and her jaw clenched so tightly it was pronounced.

Atem's scowl returned—partially for being addressed in such a way and his ears were ringing from her screech, but mostly because he had a clear view of her breasts. He swallowed thickly. '_Definitely not what I remember. Those are _not_ a child's breasts._'

Atem, convinced the sight of his sister unclothed would not faze him in the least since he had seen her without clothes on as a child and because he was familiar with the female anatomy, came to the unsettling conclusion that she was indeed a woman and he'd made a mistake. A _grave_ mistake.

In an attempt to mask his confusion, he rasped, "That was for acting like an idiot and not checking who was behind you before you—back turned—tell someone to pour water down your pretty back because you are cold."

She was taken aback for a few moments before she burst into merry giggles. At the thunderous look on his face, she schooled her features to behave and, with a great effort, stopped laughing. Demurely, she walked up to him. She held out her right hand to him, which he took in his larger one. Again, he was conscious of her.

Before he knew what was happening, she wrapped her left hand around her wrist and, with the water briefly filling his vision, he splashed face first into the water with such force that waves ran up and over the lip of the mosaic bath.

He came up sputtering and his once immaculate cloak was a limp cloth that was flapped forward on his head like a sick turban. With a feral growl that did not faze her in the slightest, he removed the cloak and flung it onto the white, gold, and peach swirled marble floor and glared at her as it fell with a resounding _SMACK!_ His eyes bored into her limpid and guileless eyes as he stalked through the water to stand in front of her; however the effect would have been better if his long and powerful strides ate up the floor as her neared her, but as it was, he had to used his hands to help propel himself towards her.

His expression was fierce as he grasped her by the shoulders and shook her—forgetting her state of undress even as her breasts shook, too.

"You little idiot. What was that for?" he ground out, every bit as furious as she'd been.

"That, dear Brother, was for being precisely what you called me," was all she flippantly said.

"What?" he asked as he mentally backtracked.

She reached out, accompanied by the soft notes of the water dripping down her arms to rejoin the rest of the water, and cupped his face between her hands. She softly chuckled. "Numbskull, I knew it was you the whole time."

"How—?" he began.

Nefra rolled her eyes and gently knocked him on the crown of his head. "Is there anything in there or is it as empty as that jar over there," she asked, referring to the jar Atem used to dump the cold water on her heated skin.

Atem knew she was making fun of him, but he was still trying to figure out how she knew it was him.

She sighed dramatically and simply pointed to the diadem on her forehead. He comprehended in an instant.

"So that is what enabled you to know I was here. I wonder what other abilities it grants you?" he quietly mused.

"My wrist is well," she offered, raising her injured wrist for his inspection. "I have always healed quickly, but never like this. I suppose it is also an ability granted to me by the power of the diadem. I do not know," she finished lamely with a shrug.

He watched her negligently shrug—bringing her state of undress back to the forefront of his attention. "You should hurry and get dressed else you will catch cold."

She was not falling for it. "Why, Brother," she began, fluttering her water-spiked lashes. "I do believe you are squirming inside."

Atem answered too quickly, "Of course not."

She waggled her finger. "No. I am firmly convinced you find my state of undress unnerving."

"You should not be thus in front of me. It is unseemly."

"At, for years I have been a dancer. Surely you know I have so little I may as well be nude."

At his pained expression, she quickly relented. "Well, I must say I never expected you to be a prude. Strange, you did not seem that way when I was dancing…"

His grimace was so comical she erupted into gales of laughter. "Do not be so serious!" she lightly scolded him. She reached up to put both hands on top of his head. She jumped/rose out of the water and used all her strength to submerge him underwater.

As she let go, she felt him grab a hold of her legs. Her eyes grew as wide as plates as she was flipped over his back as he rose up out of the water.

She squealed partially in surprise, but mostly in delight as she landed on her back with a loud _SLAP!_ and disappeared under the murky water.

Atem, laughing, looked down to find her. He felt her pinch his leg and made a grab for her but missed as she swam away.

She came back for another attack, but the brush of her hair gave her away. He reached down and yanked her bodily out of the water. When she emerged, she spat water in his face. Her laugh was cut off as he dunked her back into the water. They spent the rest of the afternoon horse playing and Atem forgot his unease around her.

--------

Nefra drew her hooded cloak closer around her body to ward off the chill of the night wind; it was one of the many things of her homeland that she had to re-accustom herself to. After the warmth of Greece, the Egyptian night was bitterly chill.

Refusing to give in to her present discomfiture, she turned a corner and passed a boy huddled between two barrels who was clutching a tattered blanket—his frame painfully thin. She hesitated and turned back to furtively leave a small bag of gold coins in the child's hand. She berated herself for a fool—knowing there was little she could do to help. She knew there were hundreds more just like him, even worse, throughout the city. For all she knew, someone could take from him sometime during the night. She sent a prayer up to the gods for the children.

'_Children like Ryske and I used to be._'

Quickly, she made her way to the darkened doorway she knew Ryske to be hiding in. For several nights over the past few months, she and Ryske had been sneaking out of the palace for the nightly jaunts in the city.

"I apologize for keeping you waiting, my friend," she whispered by way of greeting.

Ryske ran his finger down her soft cheek. "You should not have done that," he whispered back. "For all you could have known, others could have demanded you give them the same or surround you and do the gods know what to you."

She bit her lip. "I know."

Deciding to change the subject, he nodded towards the door to his right. "They have been asleep for an hour or so. Perhaps tonight will be our night for veng—"

He was unable to finish because a fierce bellow rent the night. Both held their breath. Tentatively, Nefra exercised her new power that she'd been developing in secret. She probed the inside of the house with her mind. As she feared, the ruckus that caused the streets to come alive did the same to the occupants in the small sleeping chamber up the narrow flight of stairs.

Nefra felt like howling at the injustice of it all. At Ryske's questioning look, she shook her head. She made a gesture of parting with both hands, pointed in the direction of the palace, and brought them back together.

Ryske shook his head.

_We must! We will be harder to catch._ her mind blasted into his. He winced in pain at the force behind her thoughts. Her eyes apologized for hurting him with her sloppy use of her ever growing powers, but her set expression remained adamant. He reluctantly nodded and after a brief wave he melted into the dark alleyway.

She knew it was imperative for her to leave her hiding spot, but she waited long enough to make sure her own departure would not make Ryske's flight noticeable. When she felt Ryske was in the clear, she darted from the shadowy doorway. Seeing her chance, she flitted across the wide street and blended into the shadows. She did so in time because the small house was awash with light from within.

'_We will be back and next time you will come a little closer to understanding our pain._'

Ever curious, she wanted to know what disturbance foiled her plans. Further down the sparsely illuminated street, she saw a man swathed in clothing meant to disguise come running with a pack that he tightly clutched to his chest. Not far behind him were several guards bearing torches in hot pursuit.

She wrinkled her brow as she saw him take a turn to the left that after several blocks would bring him to a dead end and more than likely his death. '_Silly young fool._'

Calling herself a hundred kinds of a fool, she left the safety of her hiding place to disappear down an alley she knew would intersect the one the thief ignorantly took.

As quick as Re-Atun in the sky, her agile steps silently devoured the path she lightly ran down. After turning left once again, she brought herself a block ahead of the desperate flight.

When the boy drew abreast with her, she quickly reached out and pulled him into the narrow alley. She squeezed his arm in silent warning to remain quiet. As she turned to lead him back the way she came, she felt his tension through her grip on his arm. The guards saw him enter the alley and followed.

They ran left and right then straight in an attempt to loose their pursuers. '_Must your guards be so good at what they do, Atem?_' she groused to herself.

Fortunately, she'd committed the maze that made up the city to memory—including the secret ways only the best thieves knew existed, which were few. She led him by the hand around a sharp corner to their right. The guards, not seeing the narrow opening gin the darkness, passed by them.

'_They will be back,_' she told herself.

Sensing he was going to speak and give away their location, she covered his mouth with her left hand and shook her head. Knowing her could not see her gesture, she placed a finger over his lips in a sign not to talk. He reluctantly nodded in understanding.

She turned from him and reached out her left hand to push in a brick at eye level that blocked further movement. Slowly, the brick sank back into the wall and the wall swung open to reveal a yawning opening so dark it seemed to pull them in with a will of its own.

She quickly pulled him in as it seamlessly closed back in place. She put a hand on his shoulder to convey the need to be still and remain silent. Her right hand was tucked in her cloak—ready to draw her weapon should she have need to do so.

Through the wall, she heard the soldiers halt at the entrance of the alley. She used her newly acquired power to reach out with her mind and see the guards shuffle around. Through her mind's eye, she saw the captain direct some guards to check the cramped walkway.

"Nothing, captain. Just a wall," reported a soldier who was barely old enough to grow a beard.

'_Too young, captain. He should be at home with his family._'

The captain squinted his eyes and, for an insane second, Nefra thought his eyes could penetrate through the mortar and sandstone to see them. He jerked his head—motioning the soldiers to come back. "Let us return to the scene of the theft. They are long gone by now," he ordered.

When she was sure the coast was clear, she exhaled the breath she'd unconsciously been holding and eased her grip on the hilt of her sai. '_Steady, Nefra._' She would never admit it to anyone, but that guard unnerved her.

She lightly touched his shoulder and told him to stay there. She gingerly walked toward the location she knew a torch rested in its mount on the wall. She then ran her hand along the wall in search of the niche that housed the flint stones. After locating them, she expertly stuck them together to bring the torch to flame. She removed the torch from its mount and walked forward a bit. She touched the torch to a shelf in the tunnel wall and a trail of fire dance down the tunnel in a line then did the same to the other side and doused the torch by sticking the flame in the fine sand before placing it back in the mount.

Nefra motioned him to follow, but he held back. "I am not going any further until you answer my questions." When she remained silent, he took it for assent. "Who are you and why are you helping me?"

After a lengthy pause, she answered, "You may call me Lilith."

"Show me your face," he rasped out from the cloth covering his face.

"You show me yours," she countered in a manner that was very much like a haughty order.

He obviously took umbrage because he reached for his sword at his waist. Before he could lay a hand on it, her hard tone stopped him.

"Don't." The simple word was like the harsh crack of a whip. "If this is how I am repaid for saving your hide, then I will leave you to navigate your own way out of here. Good luck. This tunnel is one of many that make up a warren of twisting and turning tunnels that criss-cross each other. It is a well known fact to those who know about it—few that they are—that the few who ever enter die trying to find their way out. They die a wretched death." She paused. "Shall I leave you to that fate, do you suppose?"

The hand that reached for the sword tightened into a fist and was slowly lowered back to his side. It was clear he resented it.

Long seconds went by as he tried to meet her eyes and clash in an attempt to bend her to his will. In a violent motion, he swept back the makeshift hood and lowered the rag that masked his lower face.

The light revealed long silver hair and pale amethyst eyes set in a handsome, youthful face that revealed his discontent.

"As I suspected. A youth." Was all she said as she turned and walked away down the tunnel.

"Wait!" he shouted as he hastened to keep up with her. "I did what you wanted!"

"And I didn't say I would do what you wanted," she flippantly tossed over her shoulder.

When she continued walking, he stomped after her. "Hey, wench. I—," he began, swinging her around by her right arm. He froze when he felt something cold and pointy against the apex of his jaw and throat.

"You heed me and heed well," she hissed. "I didn't come out tonight to save an impetuous boy from a fate he earned by being dumb enough to steal from an officer's home and be caught." She paused. "Do you know the penalty for thievery in the city?" she silkily purred.

When he remained silent, she continued in the same vein in hope the novice thief would learn a lesson along with some home truths. "You could—_would_—have your hands cut off and sent to the dungeons to receive pre-judgment punishment at the hands of the jailers. Then, you'd endure your official punishment and be sentenced. You will be dumped deep into the desert like human refuse. You will endure the brutal heat and bone-chilling nights of the desert for however long you linger. After a while, the vultures and other carrion eaters will become impatient and converge on you. And you'll be very…much…alive while you are being picked clean."

Her cold, dead tone evoked the ghastly images she'd described in his mind. He shuddered as he envisioned himself being tortured and cast out like rubbish to face the unrelenting harshness of the desert.

"Ah! Now I see you understand. Perhaps now you will think twice before you bite the hand offered to you." She lowered her weapon and turned her back on him as she resumed her previous intent—getting out. "Besides, those near and dear to me know I don't take orders well…" she blithely told him the understatement of the century.

--------

After an hour's worth of walking, she led him to a dead end.

"I am thinking you got lost," he taunted. "So like a woman."

Nefra pushed a block in and another popped out a few inches. She pushed that one in, too, and stepped on a raised tile that was hidden under her dress. The wall swung out to reveal the moon-kissed Nile. He walked past her and felt chilling waves of scorn roll off of her in great waves.

"I stand corrected. Gods, but you are touchy, woman."

"No more than you are," she fired back in a tone so sweet, it was impossible to mistake it for anything but acidic.

His laugh was rich. "I am sure."

"Perhaps now you will decide against the life you have chosen. It's not too late. You can take up a trade—make a decent life for yourself."

He sobered. "No. This is the life I want. Well, rather this is the only life I am suited for."

"If that is your decision—however unwise it is—then you are in need of help. You will not last long if your first time is a testament to the future."

At his startled expression, she grimly smiled. In the moonlight, he stood facing her and her lower face was illuminated. He saw a smooth complexion and soft skin. She had a determined chin. 'Stubborn more like,' he told himself.

"I can tell a first time when I see it," she drawled. At his skeptical frown, she sardonically laughed. "I was a thief, too, you know. However, it would seem Fate dealt me a better hand and I can leave it behind me. It wasn't a pleasant way of life. I didn't have anyone to teach me how to survive. It was either keep up or die." She grew silent.

"Are you saying you will help me? Why?" he asked, amazed.

"If anyone can teach you how to survive, then it is I. However, I leave you to decide. In two weeks hence, I will be here. If you chose to accept my training, then be here. Otherwise, I will not be returning and you fend for yourself."

That said, she walked back into the tunnel. She turned around to face him and the door began to close after she stepped on the same stone she did earlier when opening the hidden door. The door seamlessly shut before his eyes. He ran a hand over the wall and felt nor saw any evidence there was even a secret passageway that existed behind the thick sandstone wall.

--------

An hour and a half later, Nefra walked through the narrow partition that led into the royal gardens and tapped a stone to shut it. It had been a secret between Atem, Seto, and herself so that they could sneak out of the palace.

She felt a twinge of conscious for sneaking out and Atem being none the wiser of her actions. She met Ryske in their designated spot and hastily apologized.

"I am sorry, my friend, but I was detained," she whispered in sotto voice and told him what happened.

She drew back her hood and began to walk back to her chambers; Ryske trailed her by several paces—ever the guardian.

She smiled pleasantly at the guards stationed between her chambers and her brother's—dazzling them. "Pleasant night," was all she said and entered her chamber with Ryske trailing along behind her.

She stood in the middle of the foyer while Ryske checked each and every room. At his nod, he walked into her dressing room and shed her clothing. She donned a simple robe to conceal her nudity for Ryske's sake. She then entered her sleeping chamber and plopped down on her bed.

"Ryske, I feel as though I am committing an act of betrayal towards my brother. Oh, what am I to do? I have a bad suspicion that I have started an irrevocable chain of events."

--------

Ëlen:(Pops into the picture) "K. Now you all know what to do." (Gets a pointer) "Look for the little button labeled 'Review'." (Points to it) "Now that you've found it, move your mouse and put your cursor—the arrow—over it. Ok, now you left-click the button. Alrighty, here's the important part. You type up a glowing review and click 'Submit'. And that's it! Easy, huh?"

Seto:(Walks up behind Ëlen and hugs her)"Darling, I'm sure they know how. If they review then they do. If they don't…" (Pause) "…Trust me, they will review." hehe (hearts and kisses)

Ëlen:(Dodges the flying projectiles and grimaces at the 'Darling') Set, how many times do I have to tell you to not call me that? It's only been…" (Checks watch) "15 minutes!"

Seto:(Looks down) "I'm sorry, A—"

Ëlen:(Covers his mouth) "No! Don't say that! What did I say about say that?"

Seto:(Looks bashful) "Not to ever call you that because you don't want any of my crazy fangirls coming home."

Ëlen:"Exactly." (Feels bad) sigh "Ok…just don't say it anymore. Promise?"

Seto:"I promise." (Still looks glum)

Ëlen:"Let's go build a machine to take over the world. You like doing that."

Seto:(All smiles and sunshine again) "Ok, hunny-bunny." (Snuggles close to Ëlen)

Ëlen:(Freaks out) "'Hunny-bunny!' Ohmigosh! What have I done! I've created a monster!" O.o'

**Stay tuned for the next chapter in Forbidden: Nightly Visitations and Healing Past Hurts**


	7. Chapter 6: Healing the Past

**Forbidden: Chapter Six- Nightly Visitations and Healing Past Hurts**

**By: Ëlen Lístë Aldá**

And so, on the appointed date, Nefra opened the secret door that led to the desert.

'_It would seem Thoth denies us this brilliance and Nuit shall remain dark but for the stars dotting her inky mantle of deep blue_,' she mused silently to herself.

She gave a ladylike sniff. "Now I am waxing poetic," she muttered to herself.

Out of the corner of her right eye, she detected a shadow darker than the others detach itself from its fellows and move silently in her direction. She automatically reached for her weapon, but upon recognizing the gait, she relaxed her muscles. However, she kept her hand within easy reach of her sai—old habits died hard.

"So you weren't bluffing in an attempt to keep me from killing you," he called out to her in a cocky tone of voice.

His superior attitude grated on her nerves. "I highly doubt you could even nick me," she thrust with deadly accuracy.

"What did you just say!" he viciously ground out.

"You heard me. If you deny it, then let us go to a secure locale and prove it."

And so he tried. And tried…..and tried, but to no avail. Each and every time, she didn't even need to draw her weapons. Rather, she used her hands—deciding he needed a lesson in humility.

"Now you know an unarmed woman can defeat you and land you on your backside. How does it feel?" she taunted.

He stood up and dusted himself off. "How do you think it feels!" he snarled, eyes flashing.

"I imagine it doesn't sit too pleasantly for you," she calmly replied. "Now, would you like me to show you how to defeat your opponent and actually learn from it?"

And she did.

For weeks, they trained together, learning each other's moves, and how to counter them.

On one such occasion, she removed her cloak because the material began to impede her movements, but left her lower face covered to partially conceal her identity. In the light of the mock arena, the light bounced off of her hair and created a red halo that encircled the crown of her head. He couldn't quite make out the color of her eyes, but they looked like they were indigo and reflected the fire that burned brightly that was her soul. Her body was lithe; her light bronze skin was a sharp contrast to the white two piece dress she wore.

"Ok, now we get serious. Come at me," she ordered as she took up her stance. "Use your weapon with the intent to fight for your life because, believe me, I will not go easy on you."

When he hesitated, she whipped out her own. "Fight me," she commanded him in a tone of voice that dripped arrogant authority.

Still, he hesitated.

Beginning to become furious, she swung her right sai in a wide arch that would have sliced his belly open had he not backed up.

"So, you refuse to fight me now that I no longer wear my cloak and you can tell that I am a woman even though you knew I am this whole time."

She took his silence as agreement. Her eyes narrowed to dark purple, feline slits in her arrogant face. He almost expected her to spit on him, so great was her fury.

In a fit of rage, she threw down her sai, in the same fashion as she did when she and her brother had trained weeks before, at his feet. When he looked down at the dangerous projectile that was too close to his foot for comfort, she felt he was sufficiently distracted for her to swing her right arm to hit him with the butt of her sai—which was laying flush against the sensitive inner skin of her arm. He blocked the punishing blow in the nick of time and, hooking his leg behind her ankle, forced her down on her back using the momentum she generated for her attack.

Her breath came out in gusts as she tried to calm her heavy breathing once she recovered from having the wind knocked out of her. "Very good. You should always take your opponent seriously. Even a woman can be deadly."

"Point conceded," he grumbled, offering his hand down to her to help her up.

Her silvery laughter sprang forth. "Had you been any slower, that blow would have connected with your face. You have improved greatly," she praised as he helped her up.

At that moment, her stomach felt it had to make itself known. The loud growl caused Nefra's cheeks to warm in an uncomfortable blush. His rich laugh reached down to her, bringing to mind the rich earth under her feet. As if on cue, his own stomach rumbled. It was her turn to laugh at him.

"I didn't bring any food," he sighed.

"I took that into consideration. I brought some food with me. It's in that little pack over there by the wall. You're welcome to it; that is, if you are willing to break bread with me," she offered somewhat hesitantly.

"Of course, my friend," he gravely answered. It was true. He considered this mystery woman—Lilith—a friend.

--------

The loaf of bread and large chunk of cheese was split evenly between the two and each had a bladder filled with water.

"It was all I could get," she said by way of apology.

He bit into the crusty bread topped with cheese and his eyes widened. After he swallowed it, he said, "The quality of the bread is excellent and I've never tasted this kind of cheese before. This is no beggar's meal."

When she remained silent, he continued. "Another anomaly about you, your clothing, cleanliness, and manner are at odds with a thief. Rather ex-thief. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were from the palace…" he hinted.

The moment was upon her. "Yes, I am."

"Thought so," was all he said around a mouthful of bread. "So what do you do?"

She said the first thing that came to mind. "I am a dancer."

"You're a thief turned dancer?" he asked somewhat incredulous.

She nodded. Well she _was_. "Life laid me low for a long time…" she quietly said. "Then I realized that I should turn my life around, and after I made enough money to get started, became a dancer for profit. My own mistress," she finished with intensity.

"Dance, Lilith," he said, periwinkle eyes sparkling with intelligence.

"Very well," she sighed. She stood up and walked to stand about ten feet away from him.

"No music?" he drawled.

"I can't sing _and_ dance, fool. And I don't need music. For a true dancer, none is needed. Beat, rhythm, steps, and music all come from here," she explained, pointing to her heart. "If it isn't in your soul, then you are no dancer," she ended with conviction echoing in her very being.

"Very poetic. I believe you. Your story, I mean. I was testing you," he called out to her from his lounging position against the wall. "You passed." He shrugged lazily. "You don't have to dance."

"Tough. Now that I'm up, I will dance. Another thing about true dancers—we take any opportunity we can to dance when the whim strikes." And she did.

Silver watched her dance to music only she could hear and feel. Somehow, she made him feel what she did. She danced beautifully and gracefully with the grace of a gazelle and the brilliant passion worthy of the sun god.

When she eventually drew to a complete halt, he clapped. "Well done! I'm glad you did so—even if it was to make a point to me."

She laughed. "You're right, but I did enjoy it."

She sat back down and swallowed some water. "Soon you won't need me anymore."

"I'm that good, huh?" he joked, trying to dispel the gravity of her simple statement.

She raked him with a scornful gaze and said as coldly haughty as a princess, "Do not get above yourself. My aim was only to provide you with the means to survive on your own."

He scratched the back of his neck, grinning. "You certainly know how to let a man know you aren't interested and put him in his place."

"Silver, I—," she began.

He got up and stretched. "But you do have a point. Soon, we part ways."

"It's late," she said, rising up. "Past time I left."

"Myself as well," he agreed, gathering his things. He waited for her to put her cloak back on. "I'm off. Same time next week?"

"Yes. Until then, get home safely and be careful," she said by way of departing goodbyes.

--------

As Nefra made her way towards the palace, lightning illuminated the skies and an ear-splitting thunderclap followed closely behind. The rainy season had begun.

Her fleet feet swiftly carried her to the passage that led into the garden. After she silently entered the palace grounds, the sky was lit up again—revealing a huddled figure sitting on a bench. As she stealthily approached, she recognized the figure, but the jagged lightning proved she was right.

'_Seto._'

Her hear pounded in a way that had nothing to do with the threatening weather. As she walked toward him, she made no attempt to keep her presence hidden, and her foot shifted on some of the loose gravel—alerting him. He nearly jumped off of the bench.

"It is alright. It is I, Nefra," she calmly called out to him while holding up a placating hand.

He walked up to her somewhat stiffly—clutching something his fist. His uncovered hair was flattened in the breeze and fell forward boyishly. She itched to smooth it back, but clutched her own hands in fists to prevent herself from giving into impulse. "What are you doing here?" he thundered, forgetting entirely to address her formally.

"I could ask you the same," she countered.

Their gazes met and clashed.

At that moment, the sky opened up and the heavens poured down on them. They were instantly drenched. Nefra's mind worked quickly and came up with one possible solution to their immediate crisis.

She grabbed his arm and pulled. "Follow me," she shouted over the rain. She led him past the tree; as she passed it, she sent up a prayer for its safety. Together, they ran against the wind over the gravel and past the flowers now plastered to their beds. Their clothing whipped around their legs, and their cloaks danced wildly behind them—choking them.

Nefra held up her free hand over her eyes to shield them from the pounding rain as she scanned the twisting and groaning garden for the moss-covered wall.

"Where are we going?" Seto yelled into her ear. "If we remain out in this calamity, we are done for!"

She turned to face him. Her hair was plastered to her head and she was thoroughly wet. The sky was rent by another flash of lightning and her features were thrown in relief. The wind pushed her body against his and he had to catch her to prevent them both from being blown away. The lightning struck somewhere nearby and the ensuing thunder was deafening. He covered her ears and pulled her close.

Their hearts thudded as one as they waited for the noise to stop. She pulled away and shouted, "Trust me!"

He stared at her. It felt like forever before he nodded. She briefly smiled at him and turned back to her search. He steadied her as another gale of wind swept past them. She pointed in the direction she wanted to go and grasped his hand. At that moment, the purgatory they were in turned into a brief utopia. He wanted it to go on forever. Unfortunately, he did not have the luxury. He was more than aware of the need for shelter. The storms during the rainy season have been known to take down even the strongest of warriors should they prolong their exposure to such extreme elements.

Nefra pulled him toward the wall and pushed hard at a stone. The wall behind the curtain of vegetation swung away and, before he had time to analyze the situation, they darted in.

The passage was already lit as if in expectation of someone. '_Or some princess,_' he thought to himself, piecing it together.

The winding path led them to another wall. She had already mentally called out to Ryske to tell him to trip the switch that released the swinging door.

They had just paused when the door opened—revealing her bathing room. Nefra blithely stepped through, followed by Seto.

Ryske wasted little time in jumping all over her. "Of all the hair-brained, idiotic stunts you've pulled, this _Princess_ is by far the most crack-brained by far!" He grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a fierce shake. He then pulled her into a hug so tight, she felt her soul try to leave her.

"Ryske, you great oaf! I cannot breathe!" she gasped.

"Be thankful you are alive to still draw breath," he growled as he released her.

Seto cleared his throat—making himself known. He did not like watching Nefra being hugged and by her bodyguard no less! He admitted to himself it was jealousy.

"My lord High Priest," Ryske said as he courtly bowed. "Don't say yon fair lady embroiled you in anything."

"No, but she did save my life." He turned to bow to her. "You have my eternal gratitude, Princess. If you will excuse me, I beg leave to don dry clothing."

"Of course," she quickly responded, secretly hurt.

As she watched him turn and walk away, she noticed him clutching his arm in a stiff manner as though he was in pain.

"Wait. Please," she added. She quickly walked up to him and paused by his side. She gingerly took his arm in her hand and turned him into the light so she could see it better. A short but deep wound was on his upper arm.

"What happened?" she asked.

"I was hit by debris," he smoothly lied.

"This needs medicinal attention, quickly," she told him.

"It is but a scratch. I can tend to it myself."

When he remained silent and unyielding, she sighed. "If you will not seek help from a medicine man, then _I_ shall tend to your wound."

He looked down at her from his much greater height, startled. She raised her chin in a stubborn and very familiar way. He knew that Look all too well. He knew it so well that it warranted a "L."

"If it pleases you, Highness," he politely—distantly answered. He was very conscious of the feel of her warm hand on his arm.

Her chin rose higher. "It does. Go get into some dry clothing before you catch your death and return here," she ordered, every inch the stubborn princess he knew from so long ago and loved.

"The guards will not be at their posts," Ryske volunteered, watching their discourse and sensing the strain between them. "They are guarding the entrances to the wings rather than the doors due to the extreme weather in case they are needed. The other priests are on the alert for intruders. It will present no difficulty in my lord High Priest Seto gaining his chambers then returning here."

Nefra smiled in gratitude to her long time friend.

"Very well," Seto consented. "I shall return momentarily." He walked out.

When he left, Nefra passed a weary hand across her tired brow.

"Gods, but the day does not want to end!" she cried with feeling.

Ryske nodded. "In your case, Princess, true." He hesitated. "I assume much is in need of resolving between you and the priest."

Her laugh was fake even to her ears. "You assume correctly, my friend. There are matters that bear serious discourse betwixt the two of us. Old hurts. New wounds…"

She turned to her friend—her rock in the tempestuous storm that is her life. "How do I go about it? Digging up barely concealed wounds?"

"Well," he began as he walked up to face her. He grasped her suddenly clammy hands between his two larger, warmer ones. "The present is the best time to me to do anything."

He gave her hands a reassuring squeeze before letting the fall to her sides.

She smiled mistily and made a move to hug him.

"No gestures are necessary, Princess. Besides, I do so enjoy being warm and not to mention _dry_."

She glared up at him and removed her cloak to toss it at him. It hit Ryske with a voluminous, sopping _SPLAT!_

He blustered, looked at her, and turned away—face beet-red. "Gods, woman! Do you seek to blind me! Get yourself away and make yourself decent! Else you'll embarrass yourself and your priest!" he sputtered.

Nefra was very much aware of what thin white material when wet looked like on a body. She defiantly tossed her wet mop of hair over her shoulder and sauntered into her dressing room for dry garments. Behind her, Ryske let loose an oath as he shook the water her hair slung at him off of his clothes. He watched her saucy retreat and laughed.

--------

After having dried herself, she stood in her chamber wearing dry clothing as she dried her hair as best she could with a cloth. She was cursing her long hair when Seto entered her bedchamber accompanied by Ryske.

Nefra tossed the sopping cloth over the back of one of her gilded chairs and motioned Seto to seat himself in its mate. On the table between the two chairs was a woven basket and several supplies were laid in place.

Once Seto sat down, Ryske discreetly stationed himself at the door to afford them the privacy they needed. Seto was glad he worn a sleeveless tunic.

As she cleansed the wound, the air between them grew heavy and tense. As the minutes slowly crept by, Nefra's unease grew. The silence between them was palatable and the only noise was that of the steady drum of the rain on the balcony.

Seto couldn't help but notice the delicate smell of lilies mixed with her own spicy scent. He breathed it in like he was a dying man. The smell of her was arousing and he felt himself become uncomfortably hard. He shifted and draped his other arm across his lap to hide it.

After thoroughly cleaning the wound, she gently applied a slightly sweet ointment to the part of the bandage that would be against his arm and then to the wound itself. The creamy ointment had a substance that cooled the angry wound and numbed the pain.

As she began to wind the long strip of cloth around his arm, she delicately cleared her throat. "The gods must favor you. While your injury is somewhat deep, it is small and shall heal—" She broke off when he winced in pain because her hand accidentally brushed against his side.

"I—Are you well? Does your side pain you?" she asked abashed.

Seto shook his head. "It is nothing. A mere twinge is all."

Nefra looked at his pale, sweat-bathed face. "A twinge? It must be a mighty twinge to cause your face to bear witness to the pain you feel inside but refuse to let me see. May I see your side?"

"I said it was nothing," he bit. "Do not trouble yourself!"

Her jaw clenched and her hands fell to her lap and balled into fists. Her wet hair fell forward and acted as a curtain. "I see. Very well, as you wish," she quietly answered, concealing her hurt feelings behind her wall.

She fluidly rose and gathered the scattered supplies back into their basket. She wound the extra bandaging—her profile facing him. She paused in mid-wind.

"I saw the note you wrote me that day…the one warning me of my uncle's plans."

Seto looked up, rattled. He had not been expecting her words.

"Forgive the words I ignorantly told you. I had no idea…I only knew what I saw and it was not the whole truth." She paused, wetting her dry lips. His gaze was temporarily drawn to the action of her tongue darting across her lower lip to leave it looking softer with a slight glaze. He shifted again.

"I ask you to forgive me."

Seto stood and turned her so that she stood facing him. "There is nothing to forgive, Princess. As you said, you did not know."

His feelings were all mixed up. He felt elated that she forgave him—even consented to speak to him. Yet, he felt so jumbled—especially after that night's happenings.

Nefra nodded, relieved. "I am glad."

"I, too."

Neither knew what to do then. It was too awkward to embrace, yet simple words were nor enough. Seto brought her hand to his lips and lightly kissed its back in a polite fashion before returning it to her side.

Nefra's cheeks warmed and she hoped it did not show. She shyly smiled and dipped her head before returning to her winding. She handed it to him along with a small pot.

"Extra dressing for your wound which you must change regularly else infection will set in and a salve to hasten the healing process and ease the pain in both you arm and side."

He stood stalk still before responding. "My thanks."

Nefra sighed. "It grows late…early," she smiled ruefully.

"Yes, I shall return to my chambers now. Again, you have my thanks—in more ways than one."

She smiled and it warmed his heart. "I shall see you in a few hours from now."

"Of course. If you will excuse me?" He excused himself and made his way back to Ryske. Together, the two men walked back the way they came.

"I have a question, Ryske," Seto began somewhat hesitantly.

Ryske stopped outside the door that led to the corridor. Seto took it for silent assent.

"The princess. Does she not sleep at night?" he asked.

"Only on nights the gods decide to release the rains, my lord High Priest Seto," he answered.

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Ëlen:"Yet again, I would like to thank all who have reviewed! You know who you all are! Thanks also go to my lovely beta and friend, Child of the Ancients andYami-shun for understanding the power of the LOTR soundtracks! Lalanna, you're the best friend I've ever and will ever have even if you can't proof-read worth dirt.(o.o;) Love ya, sis!"

Seto:"Blah, blah, blah! Don't you ever know when to shut up!"

Ëlen:(Hurt and angry.) "You know you have a major attitude problem! And I've just about had it with you and your damn cynicism!"

Seto:"Oooh, I'm so scared. Whatever…"

Ëlen:"That's it!" (Pushes Seto into the next room and closes the door behind her.) _POW! BAM! SLAP, SLAP! KNEE!_ ( O,o Seto.) (Walks back out.) "There that outta take care of him. That'll teach him about not being such a bast-butthead… Huh?" (Ëlen sees viewers looking over her shoulder to see Seto in a heap on the floor with a fast swelling eye, a split lip, and cradling his jewels.) "Hehe… Okay I feel bad…" (Closes the door.) "There that relieves my conscious!" (o.o;)

Seto:(Through door.) _whimper, whimper _"She hit me. She actually hit me!"

Ëlen:"I know his fangirl contingent won't appreciate it, but he was asking for it! I didn't do any permanent damage. -_Whisper _I'm sure he can still procreate… I hope…_Whisper_- "

Seto:(Pitifully calls out.) "She said she loves me… Roland. Where's Roland?"

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Stay tuned for the next chapter in Forbidden: Lost Light Rekindled.


	8. Chapter 7: Lost Light Rekindled

**Forbidden: Chapter Seven- Lost Light Rekindled**

**By: Ëlen Lístë Aldá**

Nefra sat on the divan with her legs pulled up to her chest. Her arms hugged her knees, and her still damp hair fell forward slightly—several strands clinging to her cheeks.

She was the picture of melancholy.

_It still disturbs you_, came a disembodied voice in her head.

"Yes. I cannot help it," she answered as she continued to stare out at the silvery rain.

_It has been eight years, Nefra. A long time by manys' standards_, the male voice rationalized.

Nefra sighed and felt a set of penetrating eyes on her. She looked at Re-Atun. "For many years, the rain has been my tears. I could not cry that day nor during the ensuing years…when I was lonely, missed home, and nearly gave up all hope of seeing my brother again—let alone living."

Silence.

_I know. I was there with you throughout it all_.

"Re-Atun are you the falcon I found that day in the garden? The one I cared for then released?" she asked. She did not know why she asked it, but she felt somewhere deep inside that she had to know.

_Yes._

"Why? Why have you returned to me and stayed all this time?"

Re-Atun hesitated. _Partially because of the kindness you showed me—the tears you shed for me—and partially because of who—what—you are, Princess_.

She leaned her head back—eyes closed—and breathed in deeply. "I see. You will continue to stay with me? Even until the day die?"

He paused. _Beyond. I shall always be by your side. Forever_.

She smiled. "Forever."

_Will you not rest?_ he asked.

"Maybe next time," she whispered.

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Nefra was in the hallway that led into the throne room. Next to her was Tsil and on the other was Mana.

"Remember what I told you, Tsil," Nefra warned.

"Speak only the truth. One must always do so and especially to the Pharaoh for he is the son of the gods," he obediently answered. "I know already."

"He will be fine, Nef. He is a good boy," Mana reassured the high-strung princess.

Nefra looked at both of their cheerful faces and sighed. "I concede defeat. Just please be truthful. Not for my sake, but for yours. It is your future, Tsil," she asked as she ran her hand through his now glossy black hair.

He hugged her around her waist and walked away. Nefra and Mana watched as the boy walked with great dignity towards the pharaoh and followed suit.

"You would think that I was a bundle of nerves over my own child," Nefra murmured ruefully.

"Well, after this appearance, he just may," Mana quipped.

"I would dearly enjoy it. He is need of loving so badly. I want to banish his days of being considered little more than human rubbish from his mind forever. He _WILL_ hold up his head proudly," she fervently wished.

"I am positive you shall. In the short time you have been together, he has become very dear to you," the girl walking next to her answered—startling the princess yet again with her insight.

'_Upon meeting her, one would be hard put to believe this girl was capable of such wisdom_.'

**5 Weeks Ago…**

Atem and Nefra returned from yet another bout of training to their sitting room. Nefra was gloating over yet another notch on her proverbial belt and Atem sulked.

"You never could stand to lose—especially against me," she whispered to herself.

She looked at her brother closely. "It is not a bad thing. Nor does it make you any less of a man, brother."

"Then why do I feel so…shamed?" he asked in a serious tone of voice.

"You have strength enough to defeat me. I can defeat you because I have refined my skills out of necessity. In order to survive, I _had_ to improve. Simple nature," she rationalized.

"I am sorry you had to love through that."

"It is all in the past," she airily waved the subject aside. "The time will come when I shall be the one to eat dirt."

Atem chuckled and Nefra laughed along with him.

"_Ay!_" came a cry from Nefra's chambers.

"What in the name of—?" began Nefra.

Atem's answer was a groan.

Nefra didn't wait for an explanation. Instead, she hurried to her chambers. In her bedroom, there was a crash followed by another "_Ay!_" One of her vases just broke.

Like a vengeful sandstorm, Nefra swept into her room. That someone should _dare_ enter her private sanctum without her consent was enough to send her into a tizzy.

However, when confronted with the scene in her room, she was unsure of her own reaction.

There in the middle of her room was a girl decked out in her clothes and jewelry. At her feet was a vase Nefra had bought in Greece before setting sail to Egypt, and the girl was in tears. And did she have lungs!

Her cries were ear-splitting.

"What on earth?!" Nefra sputtered, losing the wind in her sails.

Atem, taking in the situation, roared with laughter.

Nefra sent him a scorching glare and turned to face the sobbing intruder with an expression akin to wild disbelief. This only made him laugh harder and Nefra angrier.

"Cease you infernal crying and explain yourself!" she ordered through clenched teeth.

Atem knew her stance well. As a child, Nefra had a notorious temper. From the look of it, she retained it and was perilously close to the end of her fuse.

In an effort to divert total warfare, Atem hastened towards the girl who was now hiccupping.

"Hush now, Mana. You are making a terrible impression," he gently scolded the brown-haired pixie.

Her hiccups ceased and she wiped her damp cheeks on the sleeve of the robe she wore—causing Nefra to wince. It was one of her favorite silk robes.

'One, two, three…' she mentally counted to herself. 'Whoever said counting calmed you obviously has not had a teary-eyed imp of a girl wear one's clothes and jewelry, soil them, and destroy one's valuables. Therefore, he or she did not know what they were talking about!' her mind screamed. She was so angry, she wanted to stamp her feet!

"I am sorry, Atem. I knew I should have waited, but I was so excited! I wanted to meet her so badly; I wanted to know what kind of person this beautiful woman was," Mana explained.

"Still, it was wrong of you to enter my sister's sanctum without her knowledge and disturb her possessions," he said not unkindly.

"I am sorry," she apologized in a small voice.

"Do not apologize to me. It is my sister's pardon you seek," he said, pushing her toward a very confused Nefra.

Mana curtsied and trained her eyes to the floor between them. "I ask that you bestow your pardon upon me, Princess Nefra. I was wrong to violate your sanctuary and will accept any punishment you choose to impart upon me."

Nefra looked over Mana's bent head and met Atem's gaze. He nodded and mouthed, "She is a good girl."

Nefra nodded and looked back to Mana. "Mana, it was bad of you to enter my private quarters without my consent. However, since you are a friend of my brother's I shall let the matter slide." She turned to address Atem. "If you would be so kind as to wait for me in the other room, I shall endeavor to help her change."

"Yes, these clothes are a bit big. Especially in the bosom," Mana chirped, unknowingly caused Nefra's jaw to drop and her cheeks to pinken as she twitched the long skirt and held the bosom in place with her other small hand.

Atem coughed—the tips of his ears red. "Er…yes. Um. Well, I shall take my leave," he hastily murmured as he scuttled in a very unkingly fashion out of the room.

'I do not think I have seen him turn tail so quickly in my life…' Nefra told herself.

Mana turned to Nefra who was watching Atem beat a hasty retreat. "So,"she began, gaining her attention. "I suppose since I've worn your clothes this makes us friends. Can I call you Nefra?" she asked with a glowing face.

**End Flashback**

Nefra looked at the whirlwind known to one and all as Mana.

"Thank you for your support," Nefra thanked her.

Mana airily waved her thanks aside. "That is what friends are for!" she cheerfully responded with a smile as bright as the sun.

Nefra blinked, startled. She did not have many friends. In fact, she could count them all on one hand. Other than her early childhood, her only true friends were Ryske and Re-Atun.

The warmth that rolled off of Mana in great waves warmed Nefra's heart.

'Friends.'

The word seemed so foreign to her—someone who could not bring herself to make any. Life taught her that the loss of someone you cared about was devastating. She didn't want to be open to such feelings. She couldn't depend on anyone. Just herself.

Nefra was learning to open up. Little by little. With the help of..friends..like Mana, she was learning how to truly live. It felt great. 'Maybe. Maybe I was wrong…all this time…'

Together, they took up their respected stations next to the pharaoh.

"Tsil," Atem addressed the boy kneeling before him from his seat on his throne. "For four complete moon cycles you have resided in my palace courtesy of Princess Nefra. While the princess had grown fond of you—as I have as well—you cannot continue to occupy our home in your present condition. Common people do not just live in the palace; everyone has their place—their status. Do you understand?"

"Of course, my pharaoh. I am but a common street urchin and thief," Tsil replied in his soft voice.

"I see you do," Atem continued. "The crux of the matter is how to remedy the situation." He paused. "Tell me. How do you like my palace?" he asked, pretending he was considering the issue for the first time. No one but Nefra knew how long they'd talked about the boy and his place in his court.

"I like it fine, my pharaoh."

"How so?" he prodded.

"There is a lot f space to play. I don't go hungry anymore. There are horses and soft beds. I could do without the constant bathing; that's for girls. But what I like the most is that Princess Nefra cares about me," Tsil answered gravely.

Atem motioned him to continue.

"It's the best feeling to know someone cares. I've spent all my life being spit on and treated like human garbage. She is the only one to ever treat me like a person and see me as worth something more than a flea that occupies space. She has this way of making you feel special, you know? I love her," he finished simply.

The simplicity and childish honesty was moving. Nefra swallowed thickly and felt her eyes mist. Around her, the others smiled.

"Yes, I can understand how she makes one feel special. That was certainly a moving testimony. Are you saying you wish to remain here? With the princess?"

Tsil nodded his head. "Yes, my pharaoh. That is my greatest wish. With your permission."

"I do not see why not. I have no objects and I believe you have made friends with several others from my court. Very well, I will not part you from my sister and your horses. I name you, Tsil, to be the adopted child of Princess Nefra, my sister and daughter of the gods. Let it be written, let it be done."

Tsil let out a whoop and ran into the warm embrace of Nefra. He looked up at her with bright eyes. "When do I get my own horse?"

--------

Nefra solitarily walked the terrace that enclosed the royal garden. Despite the unceasing rain, Nefra felt lighter than she had in years. Her feline prowl had a slight bounce in it.

She leaned against a wide marble pillar and sighed—a smile breaking that was as glorious as the dawn.

That was how Seto found her—smiling and staring out unseeingly at the garden. His step faltered and he stared at her. Her head was turned to her right and the three-quarters of her face that he saw brought back many memories.

Those memories were of a young girl full of the mischief of the gods. She smiled frequently and laughed uninhibitedly. Her eyes once sparkled and danced as though her tinkling laughter was about to burst forth. The world was her playground and she claimed her right to exist with pride.

In her place was a woman more subdued and experienced the gods knew what in the eight years she was away. It would lead those who knew her to believe that the god-child was gone forever.

'But looking at her now, it is clear that she is not gone; her light has not been forever extinguished. She is there—buried underneath many layers.'

It was true. The child she once was had long since departed. Her wide eyes have become slightly tilted feline slits. At times, he thought he could see eternity in those deep indigo eyes. The intimate knowledge she possessed in her eyes were almost frightening. It was like she possessed more than a part of the gods in her being. Her lower lip was sensuously full and her cheeks lost their baby fat so her prominent cheekbones set off the rest of her strong yet feminine features. (Her hair had grown long. So long, that it reached the backs of her knees.) ( One sentence?) Her body was lithe and generous in all the right places. She was tall enough for the top of her head to reach his chin. She walked with the grace granted to her by the gods and her hips swayed as she walked.

She was not beautiful in the insipid and vapid way most women in court were. Her beauty was fierce and wild. Those who were not strong enough to match wills with her would not be man enough for her and be scorched. To possess such a firebrand would surely cause the man who was likely to harness her radiance to be bound to her forever.

'Forever…'

"It is rude to stare, Seto. Especially at a lady," she called out to him.

He started and realized he was in fact staring. "My apologies, princess. I pray I have not offended you."

Nefra smiled. "I was jesting, Seto. After all this time, you still apologize for not sticking strictly to the niceties," she marveled, shaking her head in wonder. "I am used to being stared at. So do not worry. I like to think that maybe it brings some pleasure to them, so I do not mind."

Seto's ears turned red at the tips.

Nefra grimaced. "Forgive me, Seto. I should not have said anything," she apologized and pushed away from the pillar. As she made to walk away, Seto partially reached out a hand to halt her progress. He accidentally touched her soft arm and dropped his hand as though scorched.

Nefra looked up at his face questioningly.

"You do not have to apologize for the truth. Please do not depart on my account. I shall leave and you have peace to yourself," he solemnly said before turning away.

Nefra reached out to stop him. "Wait…please. I would appreciate the company. Would you care to walk the terrace with me?" she tentatively asked.

Seto looked down at her finely-boned hand on his arm and noticed not for the first time how warm she is.

He looked into her eyes. "I would be honored."

--------

"I suppose you are wondering why I was smiling?" she quietly asked him.

"I would not dare to presume to ask, princess," he quietly stated.

Nefra stopped and looked up at him. "We are friends, Seto. Remember? It would be not presumption. Call me Nefra; I call you Seto. It is only right."

"As you wish, prince…er, Nefra."

She ruefully smiled and resumed walking sedately.

"I was happy," she said.

Seto shot her a quizzical glance. "I beg your pardon?"

"The reason behind my smiling. I was—am—happy."

Seto remained silent—letting her explain.

"I am home. I have my brother. My name and birthright have been restored to me. I have friends—old and new—and an adopted child whom I will cherish for all my days on this earth. I am truly fortunate. This is why I smile."

Seto's unspoken question was tangible.

"_What happened during those eight years she was away? What changed her? Why is she so thankful?"_

Nefra knew his question, but was not ready to tell him of her earlier life. Not yet. "Perhaps, one day, I will tell you about my time away from home," she quietly answered. "I am still just getting used to all of this."

Seto nodded. 'Time will tell. And I will be here for you when you have need of me…Nefra'

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Ëlen:"Well, guys. That'll do it for this chapter! I sincerely hope everyone enjoyed it. My thanks go to the usual people—you know who you are! To those who have reviewed, thanks and—," (Hears a lot of noise outside her house.) "What the?!" (Looks out her window and sees a mob with pitchforks, tar and feathers, whips, and a strung up dummy with "Ëlen" written on its flat chest.) "Hey! Now see here…Holy crap! It's the contingent!"

Mob:(Chants) _"Down with Ëlen! Kill Ëlen! Hey-ho what do we want? BLOOD! Whose? Ëlen's! When? NOW! 2-4-6-8 Who will we annihilate? Ëlen! Ëlen! Death to Ëlen!"_

Ëlen:(Barricade her doors and windows. Boils water in her fireplace.) "Oh boy…You did it now, you stoogemuffin!" (Puts on a "piss pot" and applies a combination of black eyeshadow and lotion under her eyes.) "K. I'm ready…" (Says in a voice that would do John Wayne proud.) "It's gonna get ugly up in here."

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Stay tuned for the next chapter in Forbidden: Not Another Parting?!


	9. Chapter 8: Not Another Parting!

**Forbidden: Chapter Eight- Not another Parting?!**

**By: Ëlen Lístë Aldá**

_2 Years Later…_

Nefra was standing/ balancing on Scion's back as he cantered the perimeter of the corralled yard. Tsil sat on the fencing and watched as his adopted mother flew with the horse with her arms held out at her sides and her long hair streamed behind her.

Atem leaned against the fence next to Tsil, smiling and enjoying the sight of his sister free and smiling.

She smiled everyday now and her laughter was frequent. As he walked the halls with his council, he could hear her laughter. It was as though the palace had absorbed her laughter and he could feel her presence everywhere. The only dark spots during that time were the anniversary of their father's death, the death of Ryske's family, and the knowledge that she could lose everything by caring while she still had her destiny to fulfill. However, those times were few and far between, and she was genuinely happy.

A predatory cry was heard from high up above. Atem looked up to see Re-Atun circle overhead and play in the sky.

Over the past two years, Nefra had grown close to her friends—the other Item holders. Mana and Nefra were inseparable. Even her relationship with Seto had improved; they were great friends now. The past that had hung between those two like a specter had finally dissipated. He was glad they were close again.

For everyone, life was good by the grace of the gods.

Atem watched as Nefra gracefully crouched and then sat astride the horse's back.

As Tsil cheered, a messenger arrived with a note in hand; with great gravity, the man delivered the missive to the pharaoh.

Nefra and Scion trotted back to the fence. Nefra, after taking a quick glance at her brother's grave countenance, gave in and allowed Tsil to trot around the enclosure on Scion with the guidance of a stable hand.

"But—," he began, lip drooping.

"A trot, young man. And _only_ a trot Scion is still much too large for you to adequately handle. He just may not allow you to even so much as seat him. You should only be allowed a simple walk, but I am allowing you a quick trot," she scolded as she helped him mount up. "Be careful and do not attempt to kick him for it makes him foul-tempered for anyone other than myself to do so. However, he knows when to behave," she said as she shot a glance at the horse and silently conveyed her desire for the horse to be at his most amiable. The horse nodded. She smiled. "Well done. Now off with you," she shooed.

Nefra reached her brother's side after he'd dismissed the man. She leaned against the inside of the corral to keep an eye on Tsil as he merrily bounced on Scion's back. Nefra visibly winced. '_Poor Scion. He is not going to appreciate this. I think I should order extra oats for his exemplary behavior_.'

"What is wrong, Brother? What has caused the joy on your face to depart like the sun to leave such a brooding frown in its wake?" she asked.

Atem clenched the now wrinkled papyrus sheet in his hand until his knuckles turned white—bringing a frown to Nefra's forehead.

"I must summon the council," was all he said.

He sent her a calculating glance that she could not decipher and focused on Tsil who'd finished the circuit around the grounds within the fence. His smile was brilliant and his clear blue eyes sparkled. "Did you see me, Nefra? Did you? And you, Uncle?"

They both praised him on managing to sit the horse. Scion seemed to shoot Nefra a huffy glance. '_Sorry…_' The groom came and took Scion back to his spacious stable. Nefra told him to give the horse extra oats and she could feel the pacified waves roll off the horse as Tsil was given permission to tag along.

"Are you going to tell me what it afoot?" she asked again.

Again, she received the strange look before he turned on his heel and stalked away.

"Did—did I do something wrong?" she asked aloud to herself.

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That afternoon, the council met. Nefra wasn't in attendance…

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Nefra's blood was boiling and had reached a dangerous level by the time she finally caught her brother in their garden. He was sitting on the bench and staring at the tree with unseeing eyes.

It wasn't a good sign, but she was so angry she saw a red haze tint the edges of her vision.

She strode up to him—not bothering to walk silently. The crushed shells crunched under her lengthy strides.

"How dare you!" were the first words to come flying out of her mouth.

She stood before him like a statue of carved ice and her anger blew off of her in frigid waves. Her expressive eyes were shards of frozen amethyst. She oozed icy hauteur from every pore.

"How _dare_ you gold a council without me in attendance?! _Especially_ when it concerns the kingdom and your safety! I am _not_ a weak woman in need of sheltering," she viciously spat.

Her anger was very real and every bit as intense as it seemed, but inside she was a bundle of hurt. It hurt her that he chose to not include her for whatever reason he saw it.

"Why? Why do you put me to shame? What did you mean to show them by not having me a part of something of such great import that it required a meeting of the most powerful people in the kingdom of the Nile?" she bit out savagely.

He had had enough by then. "You want to know why?!" he ground out as he rose from the bench. "Yes, I did not include you to make a point—my sister has nothing, Nothing!, to do with weighty issues concerning the kingdom of the gods.

Her shocked expression made him angrier. He took her by the shoulders and bored his eyes into hers.

"You are a woman. A woman!" he said, shaking her for emphasis. "You have no place in war and the upkeep of Egypt. Gods, woman! You would even fight if you could!"

"You could have told me…" she whispered.

"And you would have done what? What good would it have done? You would have ranted and argued. What would that have achieved? Gods, woman! I know you would follow me to war. And die…" he finished quietly.

"I will not die," she said. "Not like that…"

Atem hugged her. "I do not want to see you hurt. Do you understand?" he whispered in her hair.

"Do you truly believe this has not hurt me?" she asked with her head bowed. Her hair fell forward to act as a curtain or a shield.

When she looked up and met his gaze, her eyes were swimming with pent up tears. "To save face by not including me? To try to _protect_ me by trying to stop me from helping you?" she cried, voice rising. "I would _kill_ to protect you. I would _die_ for you!"

"I know. That is what I seek to prevent," he answered with great conviction.

"Atem, I have killed for things infinitely less noble than to protect someone I love! Do you forget? I killed someone to free myself. I have killed people for money. Killed to eat. Killed to sleep. And it became easier because I knew that deep down it was either me or them. And I chose me! I! Being the person I am with my deep respect for life selfishly chose to kill and live another day! I have done and seen things fit for nightmares. Do not tell me you seek to protect me from the ugliness of life for you are ten years too late!" she ended, voice cracking with emotion.

She turned on her heel and walked out of the garden to the terrace with great dignity. Her chin was held proudly aloft and her strides were even. She then picked up her pace and walked—cloak billowing out behind her—towards the corridor that joined the one leading to the throne room and out into the yard. The setting sun hurt her sensitive eyes, but she continued on, regally haughty, towards the stables.

She saddled Scion, who was clawing at the door of his stall, herself and rode out of the palace—leaving a tail of dust behind her. She rode like a cyclone through the city and out the gates. Like mad, she and Scion rode to the one spot in the desert she felt safe—the oasis only she and her brother knew to exist.

She leaned forward and was one with the horse as she tore a blazing trail through the desert. Her hair flew behind her like a black banner and her white clothes became increasingly wet with sweat from the exertion of riding so fast. The feel of the wind against her hot skin was a blessing and it helped to cool her mind. Nefra pretended the speed of the horse was what caused tears to slip by and stream across her cheeks. She impatiently dashed them away. She cursed her brother for being an idiot.

The fast fading light revealed the crack in the canyon that lead to the lush natural spring. Overhead, Re-Atun cried out—letting his mistress know he was there for her. As one, they barreled through the passage way. When she arrived to her destination, she flung herself from the saddle. She ran toward the sparkling pool that caught the burning reflection of the sun. She paid no heed to her beautiful surroundings and climbed up the side of the gurgling waterfall after having hastily shucked her sandals. She stood on a ledge some seventy-five feet above the pool—not quite half-way up the fall.

The ledge was about twelve feet long and was behind the waterfall. She stood there—wet from the climb. She looked down to see Scion graze and Re-Atun perched on the pommel of her saddle.

She closed her eyes and took a deep calming breath—ignoring the wet strands of hair that clung to her face. She felt herself being drawn forward and complied by taking that final step to send her over the edge. She free-fell with her arms out to her sides and felt like a bird.

Halfway down her dive, she jackknifed and continued her dive with her arms at her sides and her feet pointed. She opened her eyes and saw the water rushing up to meet her; she stared hard at it.

Before the water filled her vision, she brought her arms forward and arched her back. She neatly cut into the water and dived down in the deep recesses of the pool until she was exhausted and could hold her breath no longer. She allowed herself to float on the surface as she stared up at the star-spangled cloak of Nuit. The chill of the desert escaped that magical place so she felt no cold as she aimlessly drifted in semi-deep water. Around her, the water droplets looked like small diamonds. In the shallows, the light of the moon caused the bubbles to create little stars in the water. Everything was silent except for the dull roar of the waterfall.

That was how Atem found her.

--------

After she'd left him standing in the garden, he cursed himself for a fool.

It was not his intention to hurt her feelings, but she was a woman and he was a man. _'It is not her place!'_

'_Never say that, my son. You know well enough that Nefra is skilled with a weapon. Someday, you may need someone to save your life and the only one you can completely trust, knowing that she'd give her life for yours, is Nefra—a girl.'_

"Someday," he whispered to himself.

'_Now, do you understand?'_ his father's voice, dredged up from his memory, whispered in his ear.

"Yes, Father," he said aloud. "Now I understand." Or so he thought.

He hurried and walked in the direction he saw her take. He followed the corridor to the throne room and saw Seto standing in an alcove looking pensively into space.

"Seto," Atem hailed him, dragging him from his musings. "Have you seen my sister?"

"Yes, you Excellency. She walked by here some twenty minutes ago." He paused. "She appeared to be distraught."

Atem winced. "The blame for that lies squarely at my feet. I upset her…greatly."

"The council," was all Seto said.

"Yes…I did not take into consideration her feelings. I was too worried over appearing weak to have my sister's presence at the council."

"If I may," Seto ventured. "Having the princess in you company would not have cost you. Rather, it would have been to your benefit. Having Princess Nefra with you would have shown she supported you—a united front."

"I see," Atem grimly responded as understanding dawned.

"However, by excluding her, you have not only shown she was not in support of you, but you have cast her in disfavor."

Atem started, eyes widening with shock. "I did? How?"

"By excluding her, she is now considered to be unnecessary in the kingdom's safety and prosperity in the eyes of your ministers and generals. Her not being there is synonymous to being in your disfavor. Therefore, your council now views her in disfavor because they feel you do. They will not see her as a figure of authority, but rather a woman—though she is a child of Ra—who has no business in the governing of the Nile Kingdom and her people. This is something that will hurt her in the future should she need to step up and temporarily take to the throne in you absence during the time of war," Seto logically pointed out.

Atem punched the wall next to him. "Curse me for the fool that I am! Essentially what I have unwittingly done was spit on her and undermine her in the eyes for those who attended all so I may save face. When looking at it from that perspective, I now understand her reaction. She was furious. But I know that the intensity of her anger was also a way to shield her wounded sentiments… Where can I find her?" he asked himself.

"I assume she went somewhere to be at peace," Seto offered.

Atem paused to think. '_Where would I go if I were Nefra for seclusion?_'

"I believe I know where she has gone. It is quite isolated…"

Seto started. "Isolated? Is it safe?" he asked out of fear for Nefra's safety.

"Never you fear. She is quite safe," Atem reassured him. He put his hand on his friend's shoulder and gave it a brotherly squeeze. "Thank you, my friend, for showing me I was wrong. I promise I will find a way to make it right."

--------

Atem rode out into the dusk and it was night by the time he reached the crevice. Using the light from the stars, he navigated the twisting and turning tunnel—the same tunnel Nefra recklessly tore through.

When the thin sliver of sky widened, Atem burst through and reined in Camros, the brother of Scion, to a halt. Spread in front of him was the lust beauty of their refuge. He saw the falls, the fruit bearing trees and bushes, the spongy grass, and Scion grazing with Re-Aten on his back.

No Nefra.

He dismounted and walked up to Re-Aten; he reached out to touch him saying, "Where did she go?"

Re-Aten pecked at Atem's finger and drew a bead of blood. "Yes, I know I did wrong by her. I have come to make amends if you would but show me where I can find her," he asked the bird.

Re-Aten turned his head to the side and accessed him thoughtfully. Having made his decision, he flapped his wings and faced the pool—letting loose a cry.

"Thank you, noble friend," Atem thanked the bird with all the respect of a king.

Atem turned to the pool and walked—eyes scanning the water's surface for his sister. He found her floating on the surface of the star-lit body of water.

Her hair fanned out from her head in all directions and swirled in the gentle current like long, inky-black tentacles. Her face had water droplets on it and was kissed by the gentle rays of Thoth. Her long, water-spiked lashes were closed. Of the rest of her body, only her arms, legs, and breasts were visible above the surface.

He didn't bother calling out to her because he knew she wouldn't hear him. Instead, he walked into the water after having removed his sandals.

The depth of water she was floating in was nearly chest deep. As he stood there, she bumped into him—causing her to let her feet hit the fine silt at the floor of the pool.

She looked up at him—water running down her face to collect back into the pool. Atem returned her solemn regard; he noted the wary sadness that lurked just below the veneer she erected.

Abruptly, he reached out and yanked her close to his body and anchored her there by wrapping an arm around her shoulders and the other encircled her narrow waist.

Her breath softly whooshed out as her chest made contact with his. She eyes widened as she felt his shoulders shake.

"Forgive me, Nefra," he begged. "Forgive me."

She didn't know what to say. She'd never witnessed any evidence of her brother's tears before.

"I was wrong. You were right; I wanted to save face and reduced your status in the eyes of those who would judge you. I was a fool. Can you find it in your heart of pardon your lack-witted brother?" he impassionedly pleaded.

"Of course," she answered, finally finding her voice. "I would forgive you anything. You are my flesh and blood. I love you, Atem." She held him tightly to her.

"I do not deserve your forgiveness and love," he answered back.

"It is not up for you to decide. I bestow pardon and love to whom I see fit," she retorted. "I choose to do so now. Therefore, in my eyes, you deserve it."

He sighed and pressed his forehead to hers. He heard the metallic _clink!_ of their crowns touch. He looked into her eyes saying, "I do not deserve you."

"True," she quipped. "But I have learned to live with it since there is not a thing I either of us can do about my poor circumstances in life." Her eyes danced in a manner that was familiar and hinted at mischief.

"I know that look. What are you—," he began suspiciously, but didn't get to finish saying because Nefra hooked a leg behind his and pushed—sending them both underwater.

They both came up for air behind the fall and pulled themselves up onto the large rock floor. "Have a care. It is wet," Atem cautioned Nefra.

Laughing, they climbed up the wall and dived off of the ledge together like they did as children.

As they tired, they shed their garments and tossed them over shrubs to dry. They then lay down on the soft grass and gazed up at the stars.

After a long silence, Nefra felt she had to ask what was on her mind.

"When the time comes and you leave, you will leave me behind. Am I correct?"

Atem paused in the process of running his fingers through her drying hair.

"Yes, I must," he softly answered.

"I will remain at the palace—safely guarded." It wasn't a question.

"If I have any hope of protecting you, then yes," he confirmed.

"Yet another parting," she mourned.

Atem sat up—pulling her up with him. "No. Not another parting. I will not allow us to be parted. I love you."

"And I love you," she sleepily murmured against his warm chest.

Atem held her tightly as she began to drift off to sleep. He looked up at the diamond dotted sky and wished things were different.

--------

Ëlen:(_Shouts above screaming mortars and AK-47 rounds._) "There you have it! That was Chapter 8!" (Runs past a boarded window and throws herself to the ground to crawl towards a wall and lean against it. Sheetrock dust falls down and she clutches her brother pellet gun to her chest.) _'Oh god! Oh God!'_ "Are those homemade bombs ready yet?! Those crazy females want blood! _MY BLOOD!!_"

(_Turns to readers._) In this chapter, two years had gone by for our favorite characters. See what happens in the next chapter of Forbidden: Chapter 9: Trust Me! This is Ëlen saying bye for now."

(_Turns back to her brother._) "Hurry up already! What do you mean you can't make them without a guide and 'potatomashers' (what-are-those?) are illegal?! And to download a guide for making low-grade weaponry is strictly prohibited due to the Patriot Act?! You're killing me here, Smalls!"

(_Explosion._)

"Crappers!"


	10. Chapter 9: Trust Me

**Forbidden: Chapter Nine- Trust Me!**

**By: Ëlen Lístë Aldá**

Two days later, Atem and a large force at his command poured out of the City.

As he rode Camros proudly at the head of the army, he thought about the past two days. During that short time, he worked to correct the damage he'd wrought. He was still unsure as to whether or not his highest officials, stuffy and set in their ways, would accept Nefra as his stand-in. He prayed Akunadin and the others would do all they could to help her while he was away.

He also spent whatever time he was spared with Nefra. She was still sore with him for leaving her behind. However, last evening, she was very calm—almost serene.

When he approached her, she threw him off balance by demurely saying, "I have come to accept that I must be left behind, Brother."

He's stared at her as the moonlight softened her features—turning them silver.

"Am I hideous? Is that why you stare at me so?" she quipped.

"You know you are the most beautiful woman in the realm. It goes without saying. No, I stare because I did not expect you to say what you just did."

She negligently shrugged. "What would you have me do? Yell, scream or cry? Surely you know me better than that. It is weakness! I would never lower myself in such a way," she haughtily scoffed.

"Of course not," he agreed as he tried to smooth her ruffled feathers. He smiled to himself. _'Feathers.'_

"What is so funny?" she asked guardedly.

"Nothing to worry over, Sister. Nothing at all…"

Sighing, Nefra reached up and cupped his cheek. He could smell the fragrance that was uniquely Nefra courtesy of a soft breeze. He smelled jasmine, fresh air, and her own feminine scent. It enveloped him like a cocoon.

"It grows late, and I know you are tired. Come, let us retire and face the rising sun with defiant faces."

--------

'_Oh, I know you, Sister. That is what still bothers me_,' he thought to himself as he passed the massive City gates and out into the desert.

'_Ra. Osiris. Her birth gods. Please, guard her, and I pray you keep her from committing anything foolish._'

--------

"_It is folly to go! You could be killed! Ooooh! Mahado and the others will _kill_ me!_" Mana's lamentations flitted in her mind.

Nefra shooed her friend's voice away, muttering, "I cannot—I _will_ not let him face this alone. I—I must be there!" Her voice caught—drawing the attention of Gahnim. She looked forward and walked as nonchalantly as she could past her brother's head general on her way to her tent and prayed the layers of dust and grime made her features indistinguishable.

She threw her tired body down on her pallet and contemplated removing the grit off of her person. She remembered Gahnim's expression as his piercing eyes watched her pass by like a bird of prey and she was the unfortunate sparrow. Poor Scion, she'd covered his magnificent coat in muddy sand so that he would not be recognized. He'd glared at her balefully as she smeared a coat of grim on him. '_Sorry, my friend._'

She shuddered and swallowed her fear. "No, most definitely not a wise decision," she told herself.

Instead, she miserably envisioned a thorough cleaning with a cool cloth. She sighed to herself. "There must be a trace of sickness in the family for me to torture myself in this way…" she grumbled.

--------

Nefra remained in her little tent long after the sun began its blazing descent.

'_And the spark from the Sun god's chariot fell to her nest and the phoenix burned…_' she recited.

She ate a small portion of her rations and listened to the men as they talked outside and sung around the bonfires. She heard bawdy tales of lust and heroism mixed in with running monologues of how they were going to win the war. The lusty ballads occasionally made her ears burn, so great was their detail, and she yawned as the youth launched into debate with a seasoned veteran as to how the war would be won.

The activity outside had long since died down and she began to drift off to sleep. She was feeling the pleasant fuzziness that only sleep could deliver when the flap to her tent was rudely opened. All she could do was watch in growing horror as Gahnim stepped in, taking up far too much room than was comfortable. She pulled the camel hair blanket up to her chin as a thin defense against his scathing gaze.

He reached down and ripped the blanket from her cold fingers. She sat up in cold dread.

"It is as I thought," he growled. His rough voice was edged with a steely tinge that made the hairs on her arm rise. He eyed her generous curves now revealed without her armor and his lip curled. He reached down and yanked her off of her pallet and shook her by the arm.

"If you were the soldier you impersonate, I would whip you for your insolence. As it is, _Princess_, you will answer to the pharaoh," he threatened.

"I am no child, Gahnim. Nor a man for you to speak to me in such a manner," she coolly informed him as she tried to control her rampaging fear. '_Atem will be very angry…_' For her to impersonate a soldier was a great sin. Her being a woman was taboo in the army and was punishable by death.

"I assume my brother wishes my presence in his tent," she continued—every inch the princess she was.

Gahnim had always admired her pluck and harbored a soft spot in his war-battered and crusty heart for her. However, he never allowed her to be privy to such weakness. '_Better she understand the severity of her actions_,' he told himself as he strode outside the tent with and marched her down the deserted path to the royal tent.

Each footstep that brought her closer to her brother's tent caused her misapprehension to grow until she could swear hear heart was threatening to jump out of her mouth. '_He would not. He would not_,' she kept telling herself. '_However, a princess is not above the law…_'

--------

When she entered the spacious tent, she saw her brother standing with his back to her as he warmed himself at the large fire that dominated the interior; it was the only light in the plush tent. His anger was palatable. And _growing_.

Gahnim stopped ten feet away from the lone figure by the blaze. He bowed, saying, "I have done as you requested of me, my pharaoh."

"You are dismissed, Gahnim. Go and seek your bed."

Gahnim bowed lower and turned to exit. He hesitated as he drew abreast with the princess. He bowed to her and let the flap close shut behind him.

For long, tense minutes, silence reigned supreme and was broken by the occasional pop from the fire. The terse silence drew her nerves to its limit and she jumped when his deep voice finally addressed her.

"I am very disappointed with you, Nefra," his silhouette said. "Why did you do this?" his restrained voice was a clue to how furious he truly was.

She remained stonily silent.

"How is it possible that for someone who always has a word to say, even when it is not called for, is suddenly silent? Surely you have something to say."

_Silence. _

"So, you have nothing to say?" he bit out as he looked over his shoulder. "Nothing at all?"

"Would it matter?" she challenged with a bravado she did not feel. It took much to make her cow before another person, but she had never been subjected to her brother's wrath before—not at that level.

"You bring shame upon our name, and you ask if it matters?!" he growled as he spun on his heel to face her. His eyes blazed while hers glittered with a growing defiance that matched the tilt of her chin.

"If I had known you would do this, I would have—," he began as he stalked towards her.

"Have what? Confined me to my chamber under a guard's supervision? Why stop there? Perhaps place a set of guards below my balcony and others at the stables," she taunted. Her bravery was no longer feigned; her increasing anger was enough to give her lagging courage a boost. "I am no child!"

"Nor do you resemble a woman," he countered, eyeing her shorn locks. "Even the underclothing of a soldier poorly disguises your body. Did you bind your breasts? You must be incredibly uncomfortable. Let me offer you relief!"

He reached out and tore her bodice and the binding cloth. Her breasts were revealed in the large tear, and the fire light illuminated them in golden tones.

Nefra tried to reach up and conceal them from him. "No," he said, swatting her hands away. "Leave them be. It is time you realized that you are not a man. You cannot be a warrior and save the day. We are no longer children playing war at our father's knee. Women—_your_ kind of women—have no place here. It is the other type that is tolerated. _Their_ type follows the army and slates a man's growing frustrations."

Atem cursed. "Nefra, I do not want to do this. However, if this is the only way to teach you this then so help me, you will learn!"

He grabbed her arm and tossed her none too gently on his soft pallet. He straddled her hips and bore his weight down on her. He caught her wrists in one hand—feeling her rapid pulse—and forced her legs apart using his.

"At—Atem!" she breathily cried out in panic as she struggled to move.

"What would you have done if some strange man were to force himself on you? Do you understand your weakness? Someone else would have taken you and _ruined_ you. You would be broken, and I would kill the man who touched you. But…it would not fix what was ruined inside," he quietly finished, his anger drained.

He threw himself off of her and glared down at her as she lay stupefied on the pallet.

"You are a woman, Nefra! A _princess_! You do not belong here!" he growled. His hands were balled at his sides. She stared up at him in hurt confusion. "Do not look at me like that. It is a hard truth you should have learned long ago. You may know about survival and you can use your body to earn money, but war is an ugly and all together different world than the one you know." He turned away from her.

Nefra sat up and carefully slid off of the pallet. She walked towards him on shaky legs and held the torn edges of her clothes in place with one hand. Her ears were buzzing, and her mind was working at the speed of light. She stopped behind him and stood still. Her forehead touched the area of his back between his shoulder blades.

"You do not comprehend the torture it would be to be obliged to sit at the palace—on _your throne_—and act as though I am a statute—a _pillar_ of strength—when inside I would be crumbling under the weight of uncertainty. I—I would die," she cried with real anguish.

Silence reigned.

"Surely…surely you do not wish that upon me…I could not bear it," she asked, her voice trembling.

Atem stood as still as a statue as she softly cried. "I—I had a dream. The day war was announced. You rode off on your horse—proud and full of vitality. I waved you off with a smile planted on my face, but my clothes were stained with the blood from my crying heart. The dream shifted, and I was sitting in the garden on the bench in front of the Great Tree. I saw you stabbed from behind by a blood-red blade. You slowly collapsed to the ground, and your assailant hacked your head off and put it on a pike. I could not go to you because the roots of the tree broke the ground below my feet and wrapped around my body…I could only sit on the bench and curse as you died in front of me…You—you died, and I could do _nothing_ to prevent it. I…am certain it was a dream granted to me by the gods so that I may devise a method of preventing you from losing your life on the battlefield. I did not know how and you were to leave in two days…this was the only solution I had at the time…I feel it is necessary for me to be here. With you…,"she choked.

Atem turned around and looked into her tearful eyes. He saw the desperation and the conviction she felt in those eyes. They spoke to him on a primal level, and he knew she did what she thought she had to do.

He kissed away her tears before he briefly placed his lips over hers.

"I am sorry…" his voice conveyed the regret he felt and his determination.

She had a stunned expression on her face as she slid down the length of his body to fall in a heap on the floor at his feet. "But you will die…,"she whispered. "Is there nothing I can do?" she asked. Whether it was directed toward him, her, or the gods she had no idea. Atem kneeled in front of her and raised her up by her hands. "There is something you can do for me, but we will discuss it in the morning. For now, cleanse yourself and rest. There is a basin of warm water behind the curtain in the right corner of the tent. Over there," he pointed to the purple silk curtain shot through with gold thread.

As she bathed, he made an extra place for her on the pallet. She stepped out from behind the dressed in a flowing white robe. It was much too large for her and the neckline sagged to reveal the shadowy valley between her breasts.

She sat on the pallet and drank wine and ate some cheese. The silence between them was awkward.

Atem cleared his throat. "Nefra, about what I did…"

She set down her goblet. "Atem…I believe I understand, but I do not wish to discuss it as of yet. My thoughts are too confused for discourse."

Atem sat down next to her, but kept his distance. "I see…I did not plan on it happening… This is something we will have to discuss at a later date."

"I agree."

"I only pray it does not change anything between us. I do not want our relationship to grow cold and awkward," he haltingly explained.

Nefra scooted over and put her arms around her brother. "Brother, nothing you do could ever result in you seeing my back. I promise you," she answered. She lightly touched her lips to his and pulled his head down to rest against her warm breasts. "Rest now. The morning will come soon enough, and we will face it together." She ran her fingers through his spiky hair and softly sang a song. The song was an old ballad about the love of Isis and Osiris. Her soothing voice calmed his fearful heart, and he allowed himself to fall back with her on the pallet.

After a while, her song ended and her breathing grew deep and even; the long and harrowing day had finally gotten the better of her. Atem pulled her close to his heart and kept her there. He brushed a strand of hair away from her face and looked down at her serene countenance. He lightly traced her arched brows, down her straight nose, and over her slightly parted lips. Her warm breath touched his finger and he felt like he'd been scalded with hot water. He slowly brought his head close to hers and, with a held breath, touched his lips to hers. He could taste the wine on her lips and the moist heat of her breath on his tongue. He bunched the blankets in his hand and fought for control. His eyes were trained on the gaping neckline. With a shaking hand, he fixed the collar and turned away from her. He lay on his side with his back facing her and listened to the occasional pop of the fire. Sleep was a long time coming.

--------

Dawn the following morning was cold and clear. Nefra awakened to find Atem's side of the pallet empty and sat up—clutching the blankets to her chest. The fire was burning brightly and next to it was a basin for her to cleanse herself. She could not groom herself like she was used to, but it would suffice.

She'd bathed and donned dry clothing when Atem entered the massive tent. Nefra blushed and blamed the fire for being too hot. Atem was carrying a saddle bag and he began to toss a few blankets inside.

"Atem, what are you doing?" she asked. He avoided eye contact with her.

"Atem!" she called to him. Again, he ignored her.

Nefra strode up to him and pulled the bag out of his hand and tossed it to the carpeted ground.

"Answer me!" she cried, becoming angry.

"You are to return to the palace," he quietly answered.

"What?! But last evening we agreed—," she began.

"Last evening, we agreed to do what I had in mind this morning. Are you going back on your word?" he taunted.

"You tricked me!" she cried. "You _tricked_ me!"

She began to ineffectually beat at his chest with her balled fists. Atem shook her off and moved to retrieve the bag. With a cry, Nefra threw herself on his back like a hissing cat.

With an oath, Atem plucked her off his back and tossed her onto the pallet. "You cannot do this to me! You cannot _do_ this to me!" she cried as she trashed underneath him. Atem brought his arm back and slapped her with the back of his hand. Nefra froze in shock. Her chest was heaving and her eyes slowly focused. Her lower lip trembled and tears spilled from her eyes. Atem, crying, pulled her upright and sat her on his lap. He rocked her and whispered how sorry he was and that he loved her. Her cries broke his heart. He brought his head down and kissed her tears away. She brought her lips to his and kissed him. Nefra broke the kiss, saying, "I cannot loose you!"

Atem turned them so that she was on her back. "I do not fearing dying. It is _you_ I cannot loose," he answered, passionately. "I will not see you die in this miserable desert. I love you too much to see that fate befall you!"

"You can never loose me, At. Never," she whispered.

Atem stood up and pulled her up with him. He hugged her tight and told her his plan.

"But—," she protested.

"Nefra, do not think only of your brother, but of our people who will be slaughtered should we fail. You must send those close to the desert into the palace for protection. Mahado and the others can defend them there. Our uncle is acting as viceroy at the moment, if I know him. You must rally troops as you go and have them march to give us aid."

After what felt like an eternity, she reluctantly nodded her head. She drew away from her brother—hugging herself as though she was cold. "I do not like it. However, you leave me with little choice. I shall do as you bid me, my pharaoh," she proudly answered with a slight trace of bleakness in her tone. She turned to gather what she would need when Atem caught her by the arm and swung her around to face him.

"I do not do this to hurt you."

Nefra smiled sadly. "I know. It is for my sake." She slowly pulled her arm free and donned the soldier's clothing she'd worn the previous day. She tightened the belt and bent to retrieve the bag from the gilded chair next to the table. She turned to exit the tent and stepped out into the cool morning sunshine. She shivered, but it was not because of the cold. She secured the saddle bag and pulled a hooded cloak on. Next to her horse was another bag containing rations as well as flint stones and a reserve of oil.

She vaulted onto the horse and adjusted her cloak. By that time, Atem had followed her out in silence. As she gathered the reins, his hand reached out to rest on top of hers. "Exercise great caution and follow the route on the map. Our current location is several leagues away from the City and we march in two hours. We will engage the enemy near the valley I pointed out to you. Have the reinforcements meet with us there."

Nefra's hand turned to clasp his in a tight grip. She nodded.

"And Nefra, do not follow the troops."

Her hands clenched the reins—causing Scion to dance. She remained silent. "Nefra! I mean it!" he hissed silently.

She jerked her hand free from his and kicked her horse. As one, they wheeled around and thundered down the lines. As she passed, the men began to murmur amongst themselves.

"_Wasn't that Princess Nefra?!_"

"_What?_"

"_The princess?!_"

"_What would she be doing in this sand hole?_"

"_Where is she going?_"

"_Why does she flee?_"

"_Does she go for help?_"

Atem stood in silence as he watched his sister ride out of the camp like a possessed woman—at his side stood Gahnim. "She is a smart girl. She will do what is best," he reassured the pharaoh.

Atem remained standing where he was and watched until she was nothing more than a vanishing dot in the horizon. Re-Atun, Nefra's ever present companion, took flight and followed his mistress out into the desert.

--------

Nefra rode in intervals of galloping to walking. She set up camp that first night, and after rubbing down her horse, she tossed a blanket over its back. Nefra found some dry tender in her saddle bag and make a little fire—taking great care to use only a small amount of the precious oil. Nefra pulled out some of her rations and fed a part of the rations she'd set aside for herself to Scion. "I am sorry; this is all I have. It is not much, and I know your stomach is much larger than my own, but it will have to suffice for now."

She ate her food by the little fire she'd built with a blanket around her shoulders and then huddled close to her horse for warmth. She lay there shivering next to Scion and tried to focus on the stars above her.

"According to the constellations, I am on course. If I keep to the path, I should reach the City within another two days. I am sorry to put you through this, Scion, but you are the only hope I have left," she addressed the massive horse.

They both passed the night safely and began the day again.

As the sun reached its zenith, Nefra began to get impatient. She spurred the horse into a gallop and kept it at that pace. After hours of ceaseless galloping, the horse below her began to slow. The unbearable heat finally took its toll on the poor animal and it collapsed. Nefra pulled her leg out from underneath the horse after much effort. She tried to stand on it, but collapsed as a hot lance of pure pain washed up her leg. She knew her ankle was badly sprained if not broken. She crawled over the hot sand to the horse's head using her arms and her one working leg. Scion was so lathered that it was foaming at the mouth. Its body racked with shudders as it tried to breathe. Its velvety nostrils were flared, and its eyes rolled in its head.

Her horse's agony broke through the haze of pain that cloyed her mind. "Scion! Oh, Scion, no!"

"Oh, gods! I am so sorry! Please. Please do not die, Scion! I did not mean to push you so hard," she cried. "Please. Please. I am sorry. Do not leave me, Scion!" she cried in broken whispers to the dying horse. Nefra threw back her head and cried to the gods. "Please, Ra. Osiris. I beseech you, oh mighty gods, spare my horse and grant me passage to the City."

Her tears would not stop. She knew what she had to do. She clutched her sai in her badly shaking right hand in a grip so tight her knuckles were white. It would be cruel to allow the horse to suffer through such pain. She'd raised the horse from a foal and treasured its friendship as much as her relationship with her brother and Ryske.

Nefra kissed his soft muzzle and her tears fell on his nose. "All will be well, Scion. It will end soon; I vow it will, my friend."

The horse seemed to accept her crooning for his big, liquid, gold-flecked brown eyes met hers in quiet understanding.

"I love you," she whispered as she plunged her sai into his heart. The horse instantly went still.

Her lower lip trembled. "Scion, Scion," she crooned his name over and over as she rocked herself.

Nefra waited for many hours—continuously stroking its velvety muzzle and combing out his mane well after Scion's death; his blood soaked the front of her clothes. With her precious horse dead, she was left to face the wrath of the desert by herself.

Nefra licked her cracked lips, and her tongue felt thick and swollen in her mouth. Overhead, the carrion gathered and circled—dipping ever lower. She clutched Scion's long mane and laid her head on his massive chest; she whimpered Scion's name. Slowly, Nefra's vision blurred, and she passed out from the heat.

She woke up in an oasis to the sound of a voice calling her name.

"_NEFRA…"_

The oasis was the very same one that she and her brother used as a retreat from the world. Lying next to her was Scion. Nefra bit back a sob.

"_NEFRA…"_came the multi-layered voice again from the glassy pool of spring water.

"Who—who is it that calls me by my name?" Nefra called out.

"_CHILD, WE HAVE ANSWERED YOUR SUMMONS. WHAT WOULD YOU ASK OF US?"_ asked another voice from the same silvery pool of water.

"I ask that my horse be spared my ignorant and inexcusable behavior. He should not have died in such a way. It was ignoble. I also ask to be able to save my brother—your son."

"_IT WAS WRONG OF YOU TO PUSH YOUR STEED AS HARD AS YOU DID, CHILD_," the older voice chided her.

Nefra hung her head in shame. "I did wrong, and I understand that. Please, I ask you to restore life to Scion and grant me time to reach the City."

The other voice spoke. "_YOUR WISHES SHALL BE GRANTED, NEFRA. ASK OF US AND IT SHALL BE BEQUITHED TO YOU_."

"_RISE, SCION, WITH LIFE RENEWED AND CARRY OUR CHILD TO MEET HER DESTINY. FOREVER WILL YOU BE BOUND TO HER SO LONG AS HER SPIRIT DESIRES IT_," commanded the older voice

Behind her, Scion's eyes opened and blinked. He shook out his mane and slowly rose to all fours. He softly whinnied, and Nefra spun on her heel.

"Scion!" she happily cried out as she ran to throw her arms around the horse's neck. "Forgive an ignorant girl her sins."

Scion's head nodded up and down as he clawed the soft turf.

Nefra laughed and spun around to face the pool. "You have my eternal thanks, my gods."

"_BOTH OF YOU, BATHE IN THIS WATER AND YOUR SPIRITS WILL BE RENEWED. YOU WILL REST HERE TONIGHT AND CONTINUE YOUR JOURNEY AFTER THE FIRST RAYS OF HORUS HAVE KISSED THE DESERT_."

"The blood…" Nefra began.

"_THE BLOOD MATTERS NOT. STEP INTO THE POOL, BOTH OF YOU_," the younger voice reassured her.

Nefra and Scion both slowly walked towards the pool. They looked at its smooth surface, and their hearts were gladdened. Slowly, they stepped into the pool. As they did so, the blood that soaked Nefra's tunic and the blood that was encrusted on Scion's chest were washed way. Nefra cupped her hands and washed Scion's head as he bent to drink from the pool. After washing him, Nefra dipped her head under the water's surface and looked at the silvery sand below her feet. She rose up out of the water renewed. Her skin no longer burned and her ankle was well.

Nefra removed her clothing and danced on the soft grass in thanks to the gods. She felt the gods watch her as she gracefully swayed and dipped in a slow rhythm.

"_NOW, REST. THE GODS WILL BE WATCHING OVER YOU, CHILD. NO HARM WILL COME TO YOU. SOON, YOU WILL GRASP YOUR DESTINY WITH BOTH HANDS. AT THAT TIME, WE WILL COME TO YOU AGAIN_…," said the older voice.

Nefra laid herself down next to Scion, and her mind thankfully lost itself in a dreamless sleep.

Re-Atun gently landed on the saddle that lay on the ground next to Nefra's pack.

"_RE-ATUN, CONTINUE YOUR VIGIL OVER THE PRINCESS. SHE IS PRECIOUS TO US._"

Re-Atun bowed his head and squawked his understanding.

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Nefra and Scion galloped with vigor through the city gates—past the startled guards the following morning. As she passed them, they beat on a large bronze plate with a hammer and its reverberations were heard all the way to the palace where activity there stirred. As they charged their way through the bazaar, they scattered the crowds. People jumped left and right to avoid the horse and rider. Cocks and other animals scurried to the relative safety of the stalls to avoid both the horse and the people.

Once cleared, Nefra gave Scion his head, and they blazed their way through the avenue of sphinx and burst into the outer courtyard of the palace. They drew to a stop at the foot of the large, white marble stairs. They were met by two guards and one of the stable boys. Nefra threw herself off of the horse and tossed the reins to the child with thanks. Nefra ordered the guards to summon the pharaoh's Inner Six to the war room.

"Tell them I shall be with them shortly."

She strode into her room and quickly divested herself of her dusty clothing and hastily bathed herself with a cloth. Her clothes were ready for her to wear in her bed chamber. She snapped at a servant when the girl dallied overly long with the fall of her cloak.

"I have not the time for frivolity! Harshness is not my intent, but I am in great haste!"

With that, Nefra left the girls to stare after her as they wondered why their normally kind mistress—who liked to look her best—was so put out with them.

--------

Nefra entered the war room—cloak billowing out behind her—as she took her station at the head of the long, white, map-riddled table. Sitting at the table were the Inner Six, as well as other ministers. Around her, weapons from kings past graced the walls and one of Atem's hounds lay in the corner next to a large chest. Mahado had taken the initiative and created a real-life illusion of the land.

Nefra sat in proud silence in her seat and waited; she did not have long to wait.

"Princess Nefra. How could you leave the palace at such a grave time and follow the pharaoh no less!"

"Ibal…," Shimon warned.

Nefra held up her hand to silence Shimon. "Let him speak." She trained her eyes on Ibal. "You were saying, Minister?" she prodded.

The man turned red in the face, but remained silent. It was easy to tell by the hard edge to her voice that she was not in the mood to listen to criticism and to do so was deadly.

"Come, Ibal. Not a heartbeat ago, you wished to give voice to your thoughts. Out with it," she quietly ordered. The hard edge was still in evidence, but now it was cloaked in velvet. The ministers and priests stirred uneasily in their seats.

Still, the man did not speak.

"Very well. I shall say what you now refuse to. I am a shame unto my name and my ancestors. I do not deserve to be seated here in this chair; I should be clapped in chains and thrown into the dungeons. I am a woman who dared to dress as a man and impersonated a soldier of the royal army. I have committed several great sins…_all_ at the behest of the gods," she ended.

Silence reigned and then the murmuring spread like fire around the table.

"The gods?"

"Surely not!"

Then came one voice who asked the question they all wanted to know the answer to. "Why would the gods bid the princess to commit such treason?" asked Ibal.

"Frankly, I care not what you think of me, but so help me, I will _not_ allow my brother—the pharaoh—to die in that misbegotten valley!" she told them—voice risen. Her hands were braced on the table as she leaned forward—eyes blazing and chest heaving—as she stared down every one of those who would not aid her.

The ministers were cowed into silence.

'_Disgusting lot of snakes_' she thought to herself. '_Little better than women in fancy robes, the lot of them._'

Nefra resumed her seat and barked, "Any objections?"

_Silence._

Nefra's eyes met those of Shimon's. His were laughing. '_Wily old man…_'

A brief smile graced her full lips before it rapidly disappeared. "Excellent! Hear now my plan…"

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As the preparations were being made, Seto found Nefra in the garden standing in front of the tree. He quietly walked to her side. He stood there for some time before she finally spoke.

"The decision has been made; I will not yield, Seto."

Seto sighed. "This I already know. However, it is my wish you would not do so alone."

He turned her to face him. "You are wealthy in friends, Nefra."

"It is not my desire to involve others; I alone must do this."

Seto gritted his teeth. "You think only of yourself! I, too, share the bonds of friendship with the pharaoh. Shada, Karim, Mahado, Isis, and myself. Our lives we would give up—gladly. The pharaoh is your blood kin, but he is my closest friend!"

"I understand your sentiments, Seto. Truly I do. However, I was not referring to your mutual bonds of friendship with my brother. I was speaking of my destiny."

Seto smiled faintly. '_Destiny. Always destiny for you, princess. Such a heavy burden that you will not share. Even with me_.'

Without thinking, he reached up and ran his fingers down her now shoulder-length hair.

Nefra self-consciously patted her shorn locks. "It grows back!" she hotly defended herself.

He sighed in resignation and let his hand fall to his side. "Here is where I will remain—with the others—and do what I am able to safeguard the City."

"Seto…" she whispered. She slowly reached for his hand and held it between the distance that separated them. "I do not know if you truly understand, but thank you nonetheless."

Seto briefly squeezed her hands because he dared not touch her further. "Just…exercise as much caution as you can. Return safely."

She smiled crookedly. "You know me."

"Indeed, I do. Thus, I said what I did."

The wind picked up and stirred their hair and clothing. Her cheeks began to warm—so intense was his gaze. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear self-consciously.

"Nef!" Mana called out. Nefra and Seto let go of each others hands like they were burned and took a step away to add more distance between themselves. She ran, waving, to where Seto and Nefra stood; she came to a halt and bent over so that she could catch her breath.

"The (_pant_) armor you wanted (_pant_) delivered to you rooms after cleaning is ready (_pant_)."

Nefra nodded briskly. "My thanks. I will attend to it momentarily."

"Ahhh… I see." Mana grinned and waggled her eyebrows comically. She did not see them hold hands, but she had noticed one watching the other with their eyes when they thought that they were not being observed.

"I take my leave, Princess…Seto," she coyly called over her shoulder as she skipped away.

'_Mannnaaa! Cuteness is inherent to you, but this time you have gone too far!_'

The atmosphere was tense after Mana made her abrupt departure.

Seto cleared his throat; the tips of his ears were red. "You must make haste. The preparations will be nearing their end soon."

Nefra reluctantly nodded. "You are correct. I should be on my way now."

She began to turn away, but, after gathering her courage, she spun around on her heel and hugged him. As the wind began to softly blow, she hugged him with her eyes closed tightly. Seto stood there—stunned for a heartbeat. Then, his arms automatically closed about her slight frame as though they had a mind of their own. It felt so right.

The wind rustled her hair and Seto breathed in her scent like a drowning man. She smelled of jasmine, lilies, and sunshine. He felt her warm breath against his collarbone and a shiver went down his spine. She buried her nose against the juncture of his shoulder and neck and inhaled his masculine scent; her mouth went dry. He dared not move his hands, and the warmth from his large hands comforted Nefra. Nefra nestled closer, and Seto put his cheek against the top of her head and stood there with his eyes closed.

They stood there in each others arms for a few brief minutes before slowly separating. Nefra's cheek brushed Seto's as she hesitantly drew back and whispered something in his ear. Nefra cautiously inclined her head to bring her lips close to his and their warm breath mingled. She looked into his eyes and saw something she did not recognize briefly flare in those mesmerizing depths. She swallowed her emotions and walked away from him in the direction of her chambers.

Seto stood rooted in place. He slowly released the balled up fists he'd unconsciously made and took a calming breath. He had held her. Her lush, warm body was pressed against his. He could still feel her breasts against his chest and her breath at his neck. His breathing came in ragged gasps between his clenched teeth. A muscle in his right cheek twitched. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair and walked to his chambers—ignoring everyone he passed. He dismissed the servants and washed his face with cool water. It did little to ease the pain in his groin. Seto knelt on a rug and turned his thoughts to prayer with a single-mindedness he did not know he possessed.

--------

Ten hours later, Nefra rode out of the City on Scion's back at the head of some thousand additional troops. Messages were sent ahead to other cities and villages via falcon requesting supplementary aid.

Seto and the others stood at the top of the palace gate and watched the mass exodus ride off in a large cloud of dust with Re-Atun circling high above his mistress. The turmoil of emotions he felt did not show on his face, but it would have been akin to those Nefra would have felt if she stood in his place and had watched her brother ride off to war.

After the dust had settled and the City gates were tightly shut behind them, Seto stood on the walkway above the palace gates by himself and watched the red sun continue to sink lower to the horizon. The wind ruffled his hair and teased his clothes with gentle fingers that bordered on a caress. It felt like a warm hand had run down his cheek and rested over his heart.

With the wind, the words Nefra had whispered to him as they embraced surfaced from memory.

"_Trust me…"_

"I do trust you…Nefra."

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And that will do it for Chapter 9!

My thanks goes out to those who have read my fanfic up til now as well as to those who faved me. I'm sorry it's taken me sooooo long to update. I kinda got caught up in life and college. ^^' But, I haven't entirely neglected Nefra and the others. I have several chapters ready for my beta, and I hope to post them soon!

~Ëlen


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